Orphan and Short Stories, Plotbunnies Galore
by Q.Elwyn.D
Summary: Rather than posting one-shots or orphan openers to stories, I'll be leaving them in here in a collection of shorts. It may take some time for the numbers to be worth it, but I hope they reach that point someday.
1. Saved by a Bell

**_Saved by a Bell_**

**Summary: **Winning a war is about more than defeating the enemy, sometimes finding the traitors who hind in the background before it is too late is far more important. Sadly, Harry Potter learnt this the hard way - after a long struggle, it ended with his death and now someone else has to pick up his plan to fix everything. Even if they really, really wish they had more than half finished notes and hazy twenty-year-old memories.

**Author's Note: **I have a fixation with time travel stories, they are by far the style I tend to get the most enjoyment out of reading. I don't really know how this one started though; I picked Katie largely because I saw her name, looked at her wiki page, then realised 'She's Harry's friend, a DA member, but never would have gotten all the details.' So a time traveller, working on limited information, trying to save everything. I came up with the story title after picking Katie, it is, however, a wonderful title.

No warnings for this one, it's a fairly tame friendship time-travel starter.

Characters: Katie, Harry, Hermione

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing in relation to Harry Potter, save my own opinions and ramblings (such as this story) on the subject.

**1st of September 1991, Kings Cross, London**

"Well, this is it." She looks across King's Cross station, recently having said goodbye to her parents and sneaked back through the barrier from platform nine and three quarters after they left. She had things to do, things beyond what one might expect from a slightly nervous looking second year. "Time to make some old friends, again, and maybe save the world. Or doom it... It's mostly the friends' thing." She mutters, psyching herself up.

"Where _is _he?" She'd tried to catch him in Diagon earlier in the summer, but her parents weren't willing to let her go out alone - unsurprising, considering she had still been eleven - and didn't have time to take her to the alley "There's the Weasley dad again... still scoping out the station." Shaking her head, she mutters quietly "Surprised he hasn't been arrested, so very, very suspicious."

A small black-haired boy comes into view, and the red-head she had been watching vanishes suddenly; the girl looks around and sees the boy and smiles. While flanked by an overweight old man and pre-teen whom she doesn't recognise, along with a horse-like woman following behind, she's found her target.

Seeing the jibes the adults are throwing out she pushes herself off of the wall she was leaning on and walks over, stopping by them to stare at the owl._ That owl is just as beautiful as I remembered. _"Are you maybe... catching a train to a school in Scotland?" She tries to keep her eagerness out of her voice and project uncertainty. Easier than she expected really, the glares of the two adults are surprisingly intimidating.

She hates being this short again. She had worked for that five-foot-four, and while not tall, she at least wasn't this much of a midget!

"What, are you one of... _them_ too?!" The fat-man speaks forcefully at her, not quite shouting in the station. Flinching at the spittle sent her way the girl steps back slightly,

"If you mean... Well, we're not supposed to say it in public, but, um owls and post have something in common, if that makes sense, at all?" _I really need to work on this nervousness, one year of being back and it's like I've lost _all _my confidence around adults._ She thinks that over for a moment, _Maybe that's better, less likely to get discovered._

The man sputters for a moment while the woman glares, but he manages to growl out "Well, if you're one of _those... _you take the boy. Keep him away from us _girl._" The insult clearly, the man grabs the fat-child and drags him away - presumably back to his car.

Turning to the slightly surprised black-haired boy, she smiles at him "Hi, I'm Katherine Bell, but you can call me Katie - you know how to get to the train?"

"I'm Harry, um, Harry Potter, and, er, no, I don't. Sorry?"

"That's a bit odd, your guide should have..." She shakes her head, she _had _known this, but it was still strange, "Anyway, it's just over here," Katie helps push Harry's trolley over to the wall between platforms nine and three quarters, "It's easy, we just need to push through the wall - it's not solid for... well, us students."

"What?"

"I know, weird right? C'mon, push with me!" She grins at him and starts pushing the trolley into the wall - Harry hesitantly helping her. Soon they break through, slipping onto the platform - just before they do Katie hears a rather loud "-packed with Muggles of course-", to which she can barely suppress a smirk.

_Not this time, hag._

Seeing Harry's surprise and awe as he looks at the masses of witches, wizards and the brightly shining Hogwarts' Express only forces Katie's grin wider. _He's so adorably innocent. _"We should get on quickly; maybe find another first year to sit with so you can make a friend in your year." _By 'another first year' I mean one singular, specific one._

He looks up at her - well, not _much _up, to her chagrin - "Oh, I thought..." Worry is depressingly clear on his face until Katie responds.

"That I would be your friend? Of course I will! But I'm a second year. Even if we're in the same house - and I'm a Gryffindor by the way - I'll have different classes, a different schedule." Seeing his face light back up makes Katie feel like her smile is going to be a permanent fixture for a while, _I never thought I'd like children this much. Or maybe it's just him?_

As she steps onto the train she surprises him by quickly casting the levitation charm on his trunk to get it on board, a couple of adults glance at her for a moment but their gaze doesn't linger long. So long as she's standing _on _the express, she's technically at Hogwarts and can cast spells. If she was on the platform however, it would have been illegal.

Watching their looks she can't help but think; _Nonsensical wizard laws. Maybe we can fix that? Probably not worth it, not my call anyway._

She hurries Harry along as she spots the swarm of redheads making their way through the barrier. She had intentionally gotten on the train in the first carriage, so she can check each compartment as she looks for her second reason for this adventure of hers.

"I'll be looking in the compartments for a good one to join; if you're okay with that?" she reaches her off-hand out towards him so he can take it, before wondering if he actually will.

He looks at the hand for a moment, then hesitantly takes it. Seemingly extremely embarrassed, or maybe unsettled by even this small contact, he replies "I, um, yeah. I'm okay with that, I guess." _I'm going to have to work on that. She'll help too, once she figures it out._

She walks down the train at a brisk pace, Harry trailing on behind her, still holding her hand, with the trunk levitating in front. She's three-quarters of the way down the train before she spots who she's looking for.

Nose buried in a book, a small brown-haired girl is sitting all alone, trunk open in front of her with several books sat at the top of her, mostly, neat packing.

Pushing the door open Katie asks, "Is it alright if we join you in here?"

The girl startles for a moment, before collecting herself to give a reply, "Of course, the compartments are for up to six students. Oh, you're doing the levitation charm, you must be really advanc- No, you've got house colours... Gryffindor, you must be a second, or third year? I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself, I'm Hermione Granger, it's um, nice to meet you." The sudden blast of a Hermione tirade nearly sends Katie into a fit of giggles, but she manages to keep it to just a smile, "Sorry, I must be..."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm Katherine Bell, call me Katie, and this is Harry. And yes, I'm a second year Gryffindor - I found Harry a little lost out on the muggle side of King's Cross, so I decided to help onto the train, and help him find another first year to talk to." Hermione smiles brightly as Katie responds, then looks somewhat expectantly at Harry.

Harry's retreated somewhat, but after Katie's put his trunk away and sat him down opposite Hermione, then taken a seat herself he manages to respond "Hello, I'm, um, Harry Potter, it's nice to meet you-"

"Are you really? I know all about you of course - I got an extra few books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry's response has him nervously looking at Katie, who fails to suppress a giggle.

"Goodness, you-"Hermione cuts off, turning to stare at Katie for a moment.

"Sorry, that's was, um, adorable? And yeah, he's in those books. But _Modern Magical History_ is badly embellished, and _Rise and Fall_ is... Not accurate. _Great Wizarding Events_, however, _is _accurate. You know in _Events_ it says he was placed with Muggles, whereas _Rise and Fall_ says he was taken away for secret training by Headmaster Dumbledore? It's the former." She looks at Harry "Unless I'm reading things wrong?"

"You knew I was, um, famous?"

"It would be hard not to! I just didn't say anything because, well, it would have been a little rude." Katie gives Hermione a little glare, causing the other girl to flinch back a little.

"Sorry... I, I don't meet people who are in books... Ever. I got excited." Seeing Katie's eyes soften at her apology she brightens back up a little and looks at Harry "Sorry. I'm Hermione Granger, it's nice to meet you, Harry."

Harry manages a little smile as she apologies and reintroduces herself "It's nice to meet you, Hermione." He looks back at Katie "I, thought you would leave... Once you found me somewhere to sit, um, so you can go to your own friends." Hermione is looking him over curiously as he talks, seemingly taking in his rather drab and patched up attire, along with his nervous attitude.

_He is so adorable. _Katie glances at Hermione for a moment _She's going to figure it out pretty soon, I'm sure. _Shaking her head, she responds to his question, "That would require me _having_ friends. I know a couple of girls in the year above me, Alicia and Angelina, but they have their own friends. I don't get on with my year mates much." _For one, three of them end up being blood-bigots, and I remember watching another two get murdered. Little hard to associate with them. _She looks them both over for a moment, "We could be friends, if you like, that way I can go to hang out with my friends _and _stay here." She finishes her sentence with a grin, and spots the apprehensive smile on Hermione's face, as well as the surprised but happy look on Harry's.

_"_I'd like that." Hermione manages to project more confidence that Katie expected, but she does remember her being more confident right at the start of her first year... Hopefully she can keep that confidence this time. Making a decision, she quickly leans over and pulls the younger - but not by much - girl into a hug, causing her to release a surprised "Eep!".

"Great! What about you Harry?" She also takes this opportunity to whisper in Hermione's ear "I don't think he's been treated well, but don't mention it, just be friendly, okay?" Hermione hesitantly nods, and then they both turn to look at Harry, though Hermione is blushing fiercely.

_"_I, um, I'd like that too." He shifts nervously, not sure how to react to one of the two girls he's now friends with suddenly hugging the other.

Releasing Hermione, Katie gives her a little nudge towards Harry. _He was big on the fact she was his first hug, so I'm not taking that away; just wish I knew when it bloody happened. _Hermione glances between them for a moment, before getting up, tentatively placing a hand on his arm and smiling.

_"_I've not had many, or well any, friends before. So, I'm very glad to have you both now - would you like to borrow the books you're in Harry? So you can read what people have written about you?"

As he nods, she gives a nervous smile before pulling back, then pulls _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ out of her trunk and passes it to him, "Here you go, I'll let you have the others once you finish with that one, okay?"

"Alright, thanks." He looks down at the book with a smile on his face. "I... I didn't have friends either, and this... This is the first time someone's lent me something too... Thank you, Hermione."

_Well, it's not just him. They're both adorable. Maybe I actually do like kids? Makes me almost regret becoming a spinster... Thank the heavens for second chances._

Hearing how happy he is just to be lent a single book leaves Hermione gasping and on the verge of tears, so Katie reaches over to take her hand a give it a squeeze, grabbing her attention so she can mouth 'Well done.' Which has the girl responding with a bright, if slightly watery, smile.

With a whistle the train starts to pull out of the station, "You two, watch the window; the transition from the platform isn't something you want to miss." Katie can't conceal her own excitement, there really is something special about the twisting of space used to get the Hogwarts Express out of the platform and onto the muggle rail lines.

She watches happily as both Hermione and Harry peer out the window with awe on their faces as the world shifts and snaps, before they are on a northbound set of rails which is largely cleared to permit the express to travel north, out of London, safely.

-oOoOo-

"Are we on a normal rail line?" Hermione can't help herself, she _has_ to ask questions, "_Hogwarts a History_ didn't mention this- did we just jump sideways on the tracks?!"

"The train does that sometimes, the muggle trains have a schedule we have to work around, and the tracks don't always let the express shift lines when it would want to, so it just... jumps sideways." Katie seems pretty knowledgeable too Hermione, and she has been nice.

It hadn't felt good to have her rudeness towards Harry pointed out, but she _had_ been wrong to go on at him like that. _Especially_ now that she can look at him and see how underfed and scraggly he is. Not even to mention the clothes he is wearing.

_The Potters were a wealthy family, and he's famous, so what on earth is going on? Who does he live with?_

As much as she wants to, she doesn't ask; she doesn't know him well enough - and she knows from her mum and dad that abused children don't like talking about what happens to them. She _wants _to help though, so she'll be his friend, if he'll let her.

The fact he was so happy to be lent a book makes her hope he likes reading, it would be nice to have a study partner. Katie being a year ahead means she can help, but she'll already know everything Hermione needs to study, so Hermione won't be able to help her back. Which isn't fair, and... and means she probably won't be her friend for long.

_No one stays my friend unless I help them study..._ Feeling a little sorry for herself, Hermione almost doesn't notice as Katie speaks up again.

"I just realised, we didn't introduce the fourth person in our compartment. Harry, what's the name of your beautiful owl?" The owl - whose name Hermione doesn't know, actually opens an eye and _barks_ as Katie says that they are beautiful.

"Oh, er, Katie, Hermione, this is Hedwig. She was my... my birthday present from Hagrid. He's the one who took me shopping for school supplies." Hermione notices the hesitance on saying she was his present; _Is it... like the book? The first birthday present he's had...? No, can't be - he's got to get so many gifts from people..._

_But he's wearing rags..._ Hermione shakes her head lightly to clear her thoughts, before hearing Katie actually say hello to the owl "Hi Hedwig, I'm Katie, it's nice to meet you." To Hermione's surprise, Hedwig gives a short bark, bobs her head and seemingly bows.

Momentarily both Katie, Harry _and _Hedwig are looking at her, so she succumbs herself "Hi, uh, Hedwig. I'm Hermione." She still can't help feeling a _little _odd about doing that, but as Hedwig bows to her, she knows that the owl did understand, her intent if not her actual words.

She has had nearly two months to get used to being a witch, and some things are still very, very strange.

"You said she was a birthday present, right? Well, we know when your birthday is Harry - sorry - but we should all know each other's, only fair. Mine is the twenty-eighth of August, so I'm the baby of my year. What about you, Hermione?" _It's remarkably hard to sit quietly with Katie, she seems to want us to... talk, to really be friends._ Hermione can't help but feel a little wistful at that thought.

"My birthday's the nineteenth of September, so I guess-"

The door to the compartment slams open, and a redhead - _Why does Katie look annoyed? - _bursts in and says, "Anyone sitting there?" pointing at the seat next to Harry, which he promptly sits in "Everywhere else is full."

Before Hermione can answer him, Katie speaks "Odd, the train is ever expanding - and was built to sit a thousand. There's only, maybe four hundred students at the moment, is everywhere else really full?" Hermione can tell Katie's biting something back, she doesn't seem to like this boy.

"Yeah. I dunno, but there's space here isn't there?" The boy brushes Katie off before turning to Harry and glancing at his forehead. _At his scar! Oh, that is so rude!_ Hermione had managed to not stare when looking for the scar - although she had glanced for it, it was under his fringe, so she hadn't seen it.

"I'm Ron Weasley, who're you?" _He's really rude. He's still just staring at Harry... is Harry shifting away from him?_

"I'm Hermio-" as she tries to introduce herself Ron gives her a look that cuts her short and has her shrink back - it's just like the looks the bullies gave her in school.

"Katherine Bell." Katie introduces herself coldly but reaches over and gives Hermione a side hug.

"Harry Potter..." _At least Harry and Katie don't seem to think this is alright..._

"Cor, really? So, you really have - you know..." Ron points at Harry's forehead.

Somewhat reluctantly Harry reaches up and moves his fringe, and Hermione can't help but look herself although she does notice out of the corner of her eye that Katie seems to have closed her eyes.

"So that's where..." Ron tries to talk more but is cut off.

"Are you _really _doing this?" Katie's voice sounds thoroughly annoyed, and she is outright glaring at Ron. _She's protective of Harry,_ feeling the arm around her again, Hermione pauses in her thoughts for a moment _and maybe me? Why? We're just first years - Harry is understandable, he's famous, but even then, she's going out of her way to be nice. And now she's offended because they were pointing out the scar... Which he got when he lost his parents! Oh, that's horrible, why would someone try and remind him of that!_

_But that doesn't explain why she's being nice to _me,_ I'm just a first year. A bookish, boring... _Feeling a squeeze from Katie, Hermione realises she lost track of the conversation while running through her train of thought.

"If you're going to be rude to the girl who was in the compartment first, you should just leave. This is Hermione's compartment, not mine, not Harry's and definitely not yours." Katie now sounded quite angry, "If you don't go I'm going to find a prefect - and there will be trouble for you, there are rules on the express."

"Yeah? And why would they believe you over me?" His voice indignant, Hermione can barely hear the words he mutters next, "... Mental, bossy girl." Bristling at what he said, Hermione almost gets up and storms out of the compartment - but remembers, just, that Katie said it was _her _compartment, she was there first.

"Why would they believe a second year with a perfect record, over an angry firstie? I do wonder."

"My mate Harry will back me up!" The smug grin on Ron's face makes Hermione feel a little ill and looking at Harry - who had shifted over to be sitting right up against the outside wall - he seemed to feel similarly.

"Really? I hate to do this Harry - but I think you need to speak up, as do you Hermione." Katie looks at them both for a moment, seeing Harry and Hermione's unease at stepping into the argument, she changes tactic. "Although it might just be easier to leave him here and find a new compartment, there's probably an empty one at the back."

Hermione shakes her head, and Harry seems to follow her lead on that - Katie looks between them both for a while and nods, then starts up a conversation about topics from _A History of Magic_, starting with Hedwig's name, and going on to give some advice on how to handle the history class. Such as earplugs, or muffs, and reading the textbooks rather than listening to the teacher.

_Is it really that bad? Can't be - history is so fascinating, no teacher could make it that boring! And there's so much more than goblin rebellions and giant wars..._

The three manage to keep a conversation which Ron, no, Weasley - _who knew wizards thought calling someone by their first name without permission is rude? That wasn't in the guidebook! -_ had difficulty engaging in. Katie even started quizzing both Harry and Hermione after they told her they had both read all their textbooks already, much to the redhead's frustration.

After Weasley makes an abortive attempt to switch the conversation to Quidditch - _what kind of name is that?_ \- Katie brushes him off, saying they'll have their fill of Quidditch talk at the castle, and moves on to demonstrate some simple spells.

Weasley quickly butts in to demonstrate a spell his brothers had shown him which was fake, only for Katie to demonstrate the real spell. While his rat is a brilliant yellow, she starts talking about it.

"The colour change charm isn't really a charm, it's transfiguration. It's just bundled into a charm spell, so it doesn't have to have a specific target or focus like most transfigurations. Trying to change a button into a beetle won't work if your button isn't what you expect it to be; you need to know what you are altering as much as what you are turning it into." Hermione can't help but grab a make note of that, _some of the textbook makes so much more sense now! That's why it was talking about 'knowing the item!'_ She ends up grinning brilliantly at Katie.

Katie who is frowning at the rat whose colour had changed back, _did she expect it to last longer?_

At this final embarrassment, Weasley finally grabs his things and storms out of the compartment, leaving the three in relative peace. Until Katie starts giggling uncontrollably.

After Katie finishes giggling over his departure, she finally speaks "Well, some people will try very hard to... be your, um, _friends_ if they think they can get something from you, Harry. I... I don't want you to think I'm like that, but I did have reasons for looking out for you. I just can't really tell you what they were." She heaves out a sigh, before finishing with "I can promise they aren't malicious, and that being your friend is more of an end, than a means."

_Some of what Katie says feels really... adult. Mature. _Realising Katie's gotten uncomfortable, Hermione shuffles over next to the slightly older girl to return the hug she received earlier _Even if she has reasons for befriending Harry, and maybe even for befriending me, she did. I like her. I have a friend - friends._ Smiling at Katie, Hermione says "Everyone has reasons. I wanted to have friends, and I was curious. So, um, you're still my friend Katie." Left unvoiced is her worry of _Unless you don't want to be..._

She can feel her heart-warming as Harry also pipes up with "It's okay... You helped. I'm okay, no, I'm happy you're my friend Katie, and you Hermione. He was... He was mean. A bully."

Katie's returned bright smile is somewhat in contrast to her response "He isn't the only one, just don't forget to stick up for your friends. Both of you, look out for each other." Hermione gives Katie an affirming nod, which Harry mirrors, followed by both giving each other little grins as they realise that they aren't alone anymore.

Later the food trolley comes by and Harry buys some of each sweet - although Katie swears off anything other than a chocolate frog and pulls a small salad from somewhere. "You'll be able to eat yourselves silly at the feast - so don't worry about being a little hungry now."

The three find themselves napping lightly, when a prefect opens to door to tell them to put their robes on as the train is reaching Hogsmeade soon. Katie ushers Harry outside the compartment briefly, before pulling a set of robes out of her small shoulder bag.

"How did you do that?!"

"Space expansion charms." Katie's response is simple, and she can see Hermione is still curious, so she continues "Bigger on the inside than out - anything that fits through the opening can fit inside. I keep my trunk, shrunk, in there too."

As she ends up staring at the bag wondering how many books she could keep in such a bag, Hermione has to be prompted to finish changing so the two girls can take their turn outside the compartment while Harry changes.

Less than ten minutes later Hermione feels upset that Katie has to split up from them as they head for the boats, and almost unconsciously reaches out to take Harry's hand. The two head down with the rest of the first years after greeting Hagrid.

-oOoOo-

Having just said a short goodbye to Katie and a giving a brief hello to Hagrid, Harry finds himself following Hagrid down a steep path while holding hands with Hermione. _When did she take my hand?_ It's not uncomfortable, somewhat reassuring in a way, the path is dark, and he can't see much of anything beyond a few nearby students and the next steps down, so having something to anchor himself helps.

Reaching the bottom of the steps he can hear Hermione gasp, looking up he can see why - a great black lake stretching before them is overshadowed by a gleaming castle atop the cliffs on the far side, towers and turrets shining in the night.

"_Hogwarts a History_ mentioned the view from the lake, but this is, it's magical!" Hermione whispers just close enough for him to hear.

"Yeah." _I wish it was easier to say more, but I don't have that book... _"It's brilliant."

"No more'n four to a boat!" came Hagrid's bellowing voice, as Harry sees a small flotilla of little boats floating along the shore.

He turns to Hermione and says "C'mon, let's grab one." As he tugs lightly on her hand he can see she's smiling - _Is she smiling because of the view, or... _\- She follows behind quickly and they manage to get into an empty boat. A pair of brown-haired boys, neither of who Harry recognises, joins them while Weasley, the scowling redhead gives Harry a glare.

_What's wrong with him?_

He might not have had a problem with Weasley taking an interest in him if he'd been on his own, but Katie hadn't liked the boy, so Harry was wary from the start -_ and then he asks to see my scar... I don't get why it's so special, can't they leave me alone? - _Hermione had been nosey at first, but went quiet after Katie reprimanded her, so she hadn't meant to be rude.

_She did look at my scar when I showed it to Weasley, but she didn't _stare_ at it like he did._

But Weasley took offence to his friend standing up for him. - _My friend, my friends. I've got to stand up for t_hem_ as well. - _So he didn't like the boy, he felt like the blond boy he'd met in Diagon Alley, just in a different way.

He hears Hermione whisper, as she tries not to break the still quiet that had descended on all the students who were looking up at the castle, "Can you believe there's a giant squid in the lake? It's supposed to be friendly, but I'm not sure..."

"How big?" He whispers back,

"Huge, as big as the train, or bigger. The book wasn't very specific." He can hear the complaint in her voice about the book lacking details, so he tries mimicking what he saw Katie do back on the train - and gives the hand he's still holding a light squeeze.

She looks at him and smiles, and he can't help smiling back, hesitantly, but he does.

As they enter a dark tunnel through a wall of ivy Hermione huddles up a little too close to him in the boat, and truthfully, he finds her being that close a little unnerving. It's a relief when they come into the underground harbour and can get out, where he can get a little distance. He limply tries to free his hand from hers but seeing her smile falter from his attempts, he stops.

_I may want my hand back, but it's not worth upsetting her._

To Harry's surprise she lets go on her own; not seemingly happy to have done so, but she did. She still stands nearby, close enough to grab a hold of one another again, but makes no attempt to do so.

She then quietly murmurs a "Sorry," to him as they see Hagrid call out about a toad and one of their boat mates call out "Trevor!" loudly, then go and take the toad from Hagrid. _He lost his pet? Makes sense he was looking upset in the boat._

As they climb up the stone steps towards the castle Harry finds himself slipping briefly, before Hermione catches him - as she lets go he decides to take her hand back, she had just helped him. Her responding smile makes Harry certain made the right decision, she can hold his hand as much as she wants if it makes her happy.

_This is looking out for each other, right?_

They finally reach the top of the steps and find themselves stood in front of a giant oak door, at which point Hagrid turns around to call out "Everyone here? You there, still got your toad?" before raising his fist and knocking on the door three times.

The castle door swung open at once, revealing a tall, stern-faced, black-haired witch wearing green robes. As she passes her eyes over all the students, Harry finds himself squeezing Hermione's hand nervously, and releases some tension he didn't know he had as she returns the gesture.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Her response is terse, easily dismissing Hagrid, as she goes back to eyeing Harry and the other new students.

She brings them inside, and while they can hear all the other students, including Katie, on their left McGonagall leaves them in an empty chamber off the hall. Wanting to escape the press, Harry brings himself and Hermione over to one of the walls; gaining a bit of open space from the throng that is their peers.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall spoke loudly and clearly, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room." _I want to be in Katie's house, I know that much. But how?_

Having realised it's important, Harry listens attentively to the rest of McGonagall's speech, hoping for some clue on how to get himself into a specific house. Only to realise he's forgotten what house Katie was in, and finds his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being so stupid as to forget something that important.

When the Professor finally tells them to wait until she returns, he turns to Hermione only to see her muttering spells under her breath, he tugs on her lightly to catch her attention "Hermione," She stops her repetition abruptly, and turns to him with a _look_, which quickly fades as she registers that it was Harry who said her name.

"Harry?"

"Um, we, no, I want to be in the same house of Katie..." he says, nervously, unhappy that he needs to ask Hermione what house Katie was in - and hoping that she remembered.

She smiles "It is we, Harry, I do too."

"I, er, forgot. That is, I forgot which house she was in." He looks down, unable to meet her eyes,

"Oh." Her voice shows her surprise at the implied question.

"Do you...?"

"Yes. Gryffindor." Her voice is tinged with disappointment in his mind, but then she pulls his head up so she can look him in the eye "Harry, asking questions isn't bad. Katie's a Gryffindor - so let's both join her, okay?" Her shows concern rather than disappointment, and despite flinching at her touch, her smile pushes away his nervousness.

"Thank you Her-" He starts, before getting interrupted,

"Are you Him, then, Harry Potter?" Three boys march up to the pair, two thickset and frowning and flanking the third as they look at Harry, and the one in the middle he recognises as the blond boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop.

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter," Harry says as he glances at the two mean looking boys on the sides.

The blond sees where Harry's looking, and gestures to them in turn "Oh. This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," clearly not caring much to properly introduce them. "And my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Hermione gives a little snort at how he introduces himself, and Harry can barely hear a muttered "Bond, James Bond." Coming from her - far too quiet for the others to hear.

Malfoy may not have heard what she muttered, but he zeroes in on her snort "Think my name's funny, do you? And who are you?" his voice condescending to the extreme.

Hermione looks him in the eye, "My name is Hermione Granger, Malfoy." It doesn't sound like how she had spoken before, and Harry feels like she's mocking him by being especially _proper _in how she speaks to him.

"Granger? That's not a wizarding name," He sneers horribly at Hermione before turning back to Harry, "You should find better people to hang out with, Potter. You don't want to go about making friends with the wrong-" Malfoy finds himself interrupted by Hermione, who bowls over his rant

"Malfoy, you haven't heard of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers then?" Harry can remember it; Katie had mentioned it on the train. The founder... "Founded by Hector Dagworth-_Granger_? Perhaps you don't know your wizarding families Malfoy, but if so it seems foolish to make assumptions." _Go Hermione!_ Harry thinks, as he sees Malfoy's cheeks tinge pink

"How dare you interrupt me!" His voice is raised, but any further retort is cut off by shrieks coming from the rest of the first-years.

As they all turn to look at the source of the sound, Harry pales and feels Hermione squeeze his hand tightly, as if she were trying to crush it - he can't blame her, really, as he watches twenty or so ghosts stream through the wall.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

One of the ghosts, wearing a ruff and tights, looks them over, and as no one answers the previous question speaks out "New students! About to be sorted, I suppose?"

Harry, along with a few others he can see, manage to nod mutely at the ghost.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" The jovial ghost seems oblivious to the terror coating the faces of the students "My old house, you know."

The ghosts and students' attention is then caught by a sharp voice, "Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony Is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned, and the ghosts swiftly left through the opposite wall - the collective relief of those waiting to be sorted.

As Professor McGonagall tells them to form a line, Harry notices Hermione pulling him along, he resists until she turns and hisses quietly at him "I want to avoid Malfoy _and _Weasley, if we can."

"Right." He whispers back, now following her lead.

They follow behind McGonagall, making their way to the opposite end of the line from Malfoy and Weasley, who seemed to have found each other and started a game of insulting each other. Just before passing through into a set of double doors, Professor McGonagall turns around and calls out "Malfoy, Weasley." Her tone means she needs to say no more words, as both fall deathly quiet under her harsh gaze.

Turning back around she opens the doors and leads the procession into the Great Hall. The thousands of floating candles and glittering gold plates were fascinating by themselves, but as he looks up he sees the sky above him.

"It's enchanted to look like the sky outside, I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History."_ Harry turns to look at Hermione as they walk up to the table at the end of the hall where the teachers were sitting and sees her flush lightly. _She can't help but blurt things out. _He realises, wondering if it would be endearing, or annoying as time goes on.

Even with her words, it was hard to believe the hall wasn't open to the sky - with the moon shining down on them providing more light than many of the candles and leaving the table of the green students – _Slytherins_ he realises - better lit than anywhere else in the hall.

They were lined up facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The ghosts were dotted here and there, far less terrifying spread out amongst the students than in a giant swarm. The staring faces of the older students however, were making Harry nervous and fidgety.

One face however doesn't make him nervous, and when he notices Katie he feels Hermione release his hand to give her a little wave, and sees Katie return it. Too uncomfortable to wave himself, he simply smiles in her direction, hoping that's enough.

Professor McGonagall drops a stool in-front of them and places a pointed wizard hat on top of it. Harry can't help but notice how old, frayed and dirty it is, his Aunt Petunia would never have let anything like it in her house. Then again, it was probably magical - so even if it was clean she wouldn't let it in the house.

Glancing at Hermione he sees her wringing her hands nervously and chewing her bottom lip, he soon realises he's doing much the same and forces himself to stop. _Why didn't Katie tell us how we get sorted?!_ For the first time since meeting her he feels frustrated with Katie; but it passes, _She must have had a reason._

Chancing a look in Katie's direction, he's caught unawares and jumps as the _hat_ begins to sing.

He learnt two things from the hat's singing: One, the hat is bad at singing, and two, he needs to be Brave and Chivalrous to be a Gryffindor.

_Great. Brave._ He thinks, desperately trying to squash the fear he might not be sorted into _any_ of the houses and be turned away to go back to the Dursleys.

Quite a few names are called before the one he was listening for, "Granger, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall shouts, causing the girl to practically leap at the stool and jam the hat on her head.

It takes nearly three minutes for the hat to finally call out "GRYFFINDOR!", leaving a beaming Hermione to run over to the table Katie's sat at, where Katie waves her into a seat next to her.

_Please let me join them. _He pleads, although not entirely sure what or who he's pleading to.

He notices Malfoy is almost instantly gets placed in Slytherin, as if the hat didn't even take a second to decide. _Even if I don't get Gryffindor, I _really_ don't want to end up in Slytherin with Malfoy._ Harry hadn't liked Malfoy back in Diagon Alley, adding in Hagrid's attitude towards Slytherins and Malfoy's little show in the entrance hall, Harry definitely didn't want to end up in that house.

A continuing plethora of names passes by as he waits his turn, before finally "Potter, Harry!" is called out.

Only for his heart to start pounding, as he hears the entire hall burst out whispering his name, asking whether he's really _the_ Harry Potter. As he sits down, and the hat begins to cover his eyes, he sees every single body in the hall crane to get a better look at him.

But that is soon hidden, and as the black rim of the hat covers his eyes, he begins hearing a voice in his head - strangely, it sounds something like a mixture of voices rather than a single one.

_Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. More courage than is perhaps healthy, I see. A fine mind, with an interesting... Oh, but that drive, that desire to prove yourself - very interesting. Now, where should I put you?_

_Gryffindor, please, put me in Gryffindor._

_Gryffindor? But you could be great, oh so great, in Slytherin._

_Please, I want to be in Gryffindor, my friend - friends - are there._

_Hmm... Miss Granger, oh, she was a hard one too. She, like you, fit Slytherin well - and Ravenclaw - but circumstances denied her that house, but they do not for you. I see much greatness for you in Slytherin, Mister Potter._

_But-!_

_Your other friend though... Miss Bell. She is more mysterious than you know; curious, curious. Yes, your heart is set, and truly, it is fate once again. But before I call it out, a word of advice Mister Potter,_

_What? You mean I can-?_

_Think, Mister Potter, you have a mind that would suit a Ravenclaw, if you use it, and a knack many would pay a dear price to make their own. Don't let that mind go to waste. That is my advice to you, Mister Potter._

_Oh, I'll keep that in mind... Um._

_Well, best get on with it. Do try to live up to the Nobility of your house; it has been lacking of late. Do us proud in _"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry gets up, and trying to ignore the loud shouts of "We got Potter! We got Potter!" coming from a pair of red-heads, he rushes over to Katie, who had made room for him between herself and Hermione. He grins at the two of them and finds them grinning back.

He was at Hogwarts, he had escaped the Dursleys, he was going to learn magic. But most importantly, he had friends now.

-oOoOo-

Getting out of the carriage and into the great hall to take a seat is almost mechanical as she goes over what information she has about what's coming up - Draco didn't introduce himself on the train, which was supposed to be an annual thing, so that was off. There's the flying lesson accident that got him on the team - not that she can help, or do anything about that, she'll have her own class at that time.

Then there's the stupid duel, she can talk them down from that if it happens. Finding out about the Cerberus is important for some reason... A stone, of some sort. How she wished the notes were more detailed.

And then there was Halloween. The troll. She needed to keep track of Hermione and Harry that day, no matter what. If she had the map it would be easy - but she has no idea who has it, the bloody notes only said, 'Get Map, fast.' Not where the map was, who had it, or even how to use it.

As the first years walk into the hall Katie makes sure there's space around herself for her two firsties, then waves to them both smiling. Hermione waves back, looking a little nervous - _did I forget to tell them about the hat? Agh! Wait, no... I definitely tried, it must have been... That's why no one ever knows in advance! It's a kept secret!_ \- as she does a little wave back.

Katie can see the two are standing near as far away from both Malfoy and Weasley as they can, which is good. From Katie's perspective at least. The headmaster is probably not so amused that his rook is ignoring his pawn so soon.

As Hermione's name gets called, it's all Katie can do to hope she didn't make them change houses - she had to take a gamble last year, on whether she could shift their allegiance, or rely on them returning to Gryffindor. She had chosen the safer bet of Gryffindor; although the hat had argued with her that she deserved Slytherin for her meddling plans, her lack of ambition - Katie knows she's more a follower than a leader - and determination to see things through got her back in Gryffindor.

As the hat calls out Gryffindor, Katie waves Hermione to sit next to her, and is happy to see she does.

Soon enough it's Harry's turn, and much faster than she remembers the first time around, the hat calls out Gryffindor once more. As the chants die down and Harry settles in next to Hermione - Katie having shifted so Harry was in the middle, safer from pressuring strangers - she can't help but feel like there's hope.

Hope she might win, that she might succeed. She didn't know everything - she was working off of incomplete notes, and memories from an outsider to events more than twenty years old - but she was damn well going to try. The previous end result had been a disaster, and she wasn't going to let her master, the Dark Lord Potter, have to rise in vengeance of his stolen love this time.

Well, maybe there could be a little rising in vengeance. Harry James Potter made for a damn hot Dark Lord.

-oOoOo-

**AN:** I had a few things I was trying to practise in this segment; multi-way conversations (not just one-to-one talking) and keeping the scene, while shifting perspective. I also used strong internal monologues for Hermione, which I think fits her worrying and overthinking personality - generally, I'm happy with this.

Even if I have no idea what kicked me off into turning Katie Bell into a time traveller.

Any feedback is welcome, I'm still very much in the practising stage, and writing shorter openers or one-shots is me trying to figure out how exactly to write, before I commit to anything longer than one or two chapters.

**EDIT: **It turns out a friend of mine made a point to me, which lead me to do some editing and add a Harry section; he pointed out that without Ron Harry may well have gone to Slytherin, I knew he wouldn't (and why) but I decided to add in Harry's perspective from getting off the train, to the sorting to clear that up.

It got bigger than I expected, to be honest. There were also some other, minor, edits within the text.


	2. Double Time - A Kidnapping

****Summary: ****Time travel doesn't always work out as planned. Sometimes, things double up, and really; how the hell are you supposed to account for that?

**AN: **I wish I could write this story fully, properly, but I can't. Maybe one day I'll come back to it, but it's too complicated and way beyond my current abilities.

* * *

**30th of June, 1995, King's Cross, London**

Hermione had just done something she had thought she might never get the courage to do - give her four-year-long crush a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't much, but it was something.

The rumours she had been dating Victor Krum this year were terrible; he asked her to the ball so he didn't go with a simpering fan girl - and all that ended up happening is she gets put under a lake and targeted by all the simpering fan girls.

And it makes her crush think she's interested in other people; she can only hope she's just changed his mind. _Not hope much, sadly, he's rather dense, but one does what one must for the boy who leapt atop a troll to save your life._ Who slew a basilisk because she was petrified. Who held her as he scattered a hundred soul-sucking demons.

Who out flew a dragon. Survived a dark lord.

Even if the last two weren't done for Hermione, he did them and survived. Even if so few believed he the dark lord was back, she knew he was, Harry said so, and she would believe him. Always.

So as Hermione walked towards her mum, who was waiting for her with a smile on her face as she was contemplating how to help Harry - he needed comfort, he'd so recently seen someone die, been tortured and used in a ritual.

She knew he couldn't come to her; Dumbledore said it wasn't safe, and really, it almost certainly wasn't. Her house was muggle, unwarded, unprotected, if you-know-who attacked her home she couldn't put up of a fight, and neither could her parents.

"So, that's the boy you like, is it? Think he got the message?" The teasing voice of her mum startles out of Hermione out of her thoughts just in time to see the hug coming. Harry's one of the few who knows what Hermione's hugs are like; crushing, emotion-filled hugs meant to show how much she cares, and she gets them from her mum.

As much as it feels right, it's a little off somehow.

"Mum!" Her indignant cry is met with light chuckles as she's released, "Where's dad?"

"He's busy - emergency at the clinic. Couldn't find any parking so we're going to have to walk a bit." Hermione nods at this; finding parking anywhere near King's Cross is a nightmare - it can take hours if they don't arrive early enough.

Trailing after her mother Hermione goes back to her ruminations, her thoughts flickering between Harry, how to fight back against Voldemort, and the uses of the reporter in her pocket, in her literal pocket rather than bribed.

One could almost feel pity for Rita, almost.

While she's distracted she doesn't pay much attention to where she's going beyond following her mum, so when her arm is grabbed and pulled into an alleyway she tries to shriek in alarm - only to find her mother's hand covering her mouth and holding her tight.

Suddenly the world is a straw and she's being pulled through it, as she pops back she tries to take a deep breath -

Only for it to happen again. And again. And again.

After what feels like an eternity, and leaves her heaving onto the ground the world stops. Realising this must have been a kidnapping she pulls out her wand and turns to face her kidnapper - her mum, no, someone polyjuiced as her mum.

"Hello, Hermione," The witch disguised as her mum is pointing her own wand - a very familiar, vinewood wand - at her "my name is... well, let's go with Mia, not my name, but I deserve one I like, considering what happened." The sad smile on her mum's - kidnapper's - face is confusing, as is her relaxed posture.

Confused by her kidnapper or not, however, Hermione is still terrified. She's in a forest clearing, alone with a witch who is obviously older and more powerful than her. "What are you going to d-do to me?"

"Ah, well. Save you, and Harry, I hope. At the very least I'll try."

"How is kidnapping me saving me? What do you want? Where are we?" falling back on old habits, Hermione pushes her nervousness aside with her curiosity - spitting out questions "Why does your wand look like mine? And what on earth do you mean by saving Harry?"

"I mean, saving you, and Harry, from Dumbledore's plots. But first I have to hope this actually works, the temporal mechanics are rather convoluted and technically impossible, but that hasn't stopped me so far." Wands still raised, facing each other down, Hermione unsteady and still tasting bile in her mouth finds herself more and more intimidated, and the next words only make her feel terrified.

"I, Hermione Jane Granger, indicated heir of the House of Potter do claim the life debt owed to the House of Potter by Hermione Jane Granger, created on October thirty first, nineteen-ninety-one."

A brief flash of light flares from both their wands, and a sort of magical weight settles over Hermione from those words. An even greater mental weight settles over her, one of fear - she knew about life debts, of course she did, as soon as she had been rescued she'd read up about them.

She owed one to Harry for saving her from the Troll, and again when they time travelled and his Patronus had driven away the Dementors by the lake. Both she, and Sirius, owed him for that, though her less so.

But debts didn't become real unless claimed, and Harry never would, so she never brought it up. But here she was, staring a someone - some stranger who claimed her debt. Her arm drops on its own, and she starts crying, there's no way she can help Harry now - who ever this is owns her until the debt is fulfilled, and since she was kidnapped it will probably be against Harry.

She had become a liability. So she cried. The boy she had come to love, would hate her forever for betraying him.

Her worries and tears grow greater with each passing moment, until as the polyjuice fades on her captor in front of her eyes she falls into shock.

Her captor had drunk nothing, not taken a different dose of polyjuice, yet their features warped and shifted, not to some stranger, but her own. She was staring herself in the face, a second Hermione, who had started crying herself.

"I, Hermione Jane Granger, call in full the life-debt owed to the House of Potter by Hermione Jane Granger, to fulfil the debt she shall step forward and provide a hug. So mote it be." _She had said her name was Mia, but she uses mine for the calling. I didn't notice before _Hermione's are sluggish due to shock as she is compelled to walk forward and hug the stranger - her duplicate - as the hug is returned she can tell why her mum's hug felt wrong before.

It was her own hug, imperfect at delivering that comfort she so strives to show, but full of emotion regardless.

Even though she quickly feels the magical compulsion fade, she clings on anyway, unsure of what is happening - she hasn't been enslaved, her kidnapper is herself, her looming life-debt is gone, and she is crying while being held in her own arms.

Considering less than an hour ago she had kissed her dearest crush, this was turning out to be quite the day for highly strung emotions.

A few minutes pass as they hold onto each other, finding comfort in the familiar yet strange embrace, "Come on, up, we can sit and talk in the tent." Hermione finds herself pulled to her feet and dragged into an empty patch of ground - where suddenly a tent pops into existence, a magically expanded one.

"This is where we'll be staying for a while; I need to teach you the basics at least, and then you need to decide what you are going to do. I won't force you, it wouldn't be fair, but right now it's not safe." Her voices continues in a quiet whisper "Not safe at all, even with the debt gone."

"What happened to mum, dad?" Her shock is keeping her from reacting right now; that and a small bit of trust built from the life-debt being cleared by a simple hug. If she was going to be used, that action made no sense at all.

"They're fine; in France at the moment as practise's sale finalises. They'll be in Australia before the end of Summer, safe."

"What? Why!" Hermione shouts, but finds herself silenced and pushed into a chair, with a mug of hot chocolate poured and set in front of her as she is unable to continue demanding answers.

"Because... Because six days from now they would be dead, you would be with the Weasley's, and Molly Weasley would be your new guardian. Which she would then use to claim our inheritance as Dagworth-Granger's descendant, and with help twist our life-debt into being owed to the _Mouth_ \- sorry, _Ronald."_ The hatred in Mia's voice is palpable as she mentions Hermione's second friend, to the point she flinches.

"We would even be forced to be nice to Dad's murderer; dear _Professor_ _Snape_ using the attack on us to show his loyalty to his dark-lord. Hard to say if it was his own initiative or not, or if he was even willing, I never got the chance to question him."

With a flick of her wand Mia removes the silencing spell on Hermione, who quickly starts speaking again "I don't - why? Mum, dad, dead? And no one would believe me about Professor Snape?"

"No, they'd believe you - after all Snape would report it himself. But, '_For the Greater Good, Professor Snape's cover must be maintained, even if it means sacrifices'." _Mia's voice is caustic, and she looks ill as she finishes speaking. "I _hate_ the _greater good_ and _everything_ it stands for."

"And, after all, just like _Mother Molly_ always says; '_They're just Muggles'_" Hermione is finding this incredibly hard to believe - but even so, it doesn't feel like Mia is lying. And... Molly has said exactly that, that she should listen to her over her own parents; because _They're just Muggles. _Hermione shivers at that thought.

She reaches out for her mug of hot-chocolate, only to find herself receiving a stinging hex to her hand "Ow! Hey!"

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is how I got caught the first time; I'm still a stranger, dangerous, not trustworthy, and you would drink something you didn't see prepared? Do you want to be potioned into being a pet for a redheaded pig?" Mia's voice is bitter, and Hermione can't help but feel it's directed at both of them.

"Are you saying that it's potioned? Why would you tell me if it-"

"It's not, but the food at.. At.. Ugh, Fidelius charms. At Headquarters, is. Loyalty, Love, Will Suppressants, basically everything necessary to make you fall in love with the _Mouth._" She grimaces and looks down "Just like what happened to me."

"It took months before I started _desiring_ the pig, but I stopped loving Harry long before he actually arrived; stopped caring Mum and Dad were dead because _Mother Molly_ was there to fill in the gap. We were smart, smarter than Dumbledore, so..." She chokes "So she wanted us as a breeding _sow_ for her _pig_. Dumbledore just wanted us away from Harry, distant, and Molly's plan was convenient. He didn't hate us, we were just in the way."

"I... I don't believe you. I, no, I can't. They wouldn't. Ron wouldn't; he's my friend, Harry's friend..."

"And yet, she did tell you that story about brewing the potions; oh Arthur's not under them, now. He was at the start, but he does love her, and his children. It's why she thinks it's acceptable; 'fake it until it becomes real'. Only, after nine years, it never became real. Not for us, not for Harry." Mia shakes her head.

"That was just a little story! It doesn't mean that she's going to use love potions on me, this is ridiculous!"

"Considering you have a low dose loyalty potion in your system keyed to Ronald and the Headmaster, have done since first year, I don't think you can really say that. Entirely incidental mind; it's a consequence of sitting near Harry at meal times. I don't the Dumbledore even knows Molly doubled up the potion so it works for her son as well as him."

Hermione finds the idea of a loyalty potion keyed to Ronald believable, if only just. But the headmaster... _He's Dumbledore._ She just can't imagine anyone she knows doing it, but the way both she and Harry forgive him for everything has always been strange. "I still can't believe they would do it. They're not evil."

"Evil, no. Manipulative and unethical, yes. We're just muggleborn, we don't matter; children of animals, they're just doing their duty _educating _the _savages_. Don't you remember how Arthur treats Mum and Dad?"

"... Like zoo animals."

"Exactly. It's much like the gentlemen explorers who travelled the world; not evil, some maybe not even cruel, but they thought themselves better, _superior. _Racist, classist, bigots."

They both just sit there for a while, Mia sipping away at her hot chocolate while they remain silent.

"What's the charm to detect contaminated drinks?"

Mia doesn't answer, but gets up and pulls a book off a shelf and passes it to Hermione, who scans through it, occasionally glancing at Mia.

"I'm underage."

"The wards on the tent block detection; it's not hard to do. According to the ministry I'm underage too; although my wand isn't, which is what matters."

Hermione takes a minute but casts a spell on the drink, then a different one on a hair she plucks form her head. The first doesn't give a result, but there's a faint light blue glow on the hair.

"You miscast the first one, needs a tighter spiral. You should also never rely on a single cast, false negatives can happen."

Repeating the spells twice more, and receiving a nod Hermione finally takes a sip of her hot chocolate, "Alright. I've been potioned, I believe that. But I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt for now."

"Good enough; now six days for you to get the charms down, basic Occulmency and to make a decision."

"What decision?"

"Go to Australia with Mum and Dad to keep you safe and let me take your place to keep Harry safe; or go to headquarters with me, and we come up with some kind of story for why there are suddenly two of us."

Hermione looks baffled for a moment "You're a time traveller, why don't you already have a plan?"

"I was supposed to merge into you, I hardly expected to come back in my own body - albeit a younger version - I've spent the last week rather frantically preparing for _this_ because all my plans had to be adjusted to account for you."

Mia sighs "And, at the end of it, I can't help being sad; even if I succeed in every way possible, one of us is almost certain to get heartbroken." She stares at the ground "Me, preferably, I don't deserve him. Not after what happened."

Hermione doesn't respond and just settles in to study the book she has been given, and then a book on occulmency which is quickly placed on the table. Neither speak until Mia says she's going to bed, and Hermione only gives a short acknowledgement.

In her mind there are a few thoughts of betraying her kidnapper, running to Dumbledore and informing him; but an undercurrent of fear keeps her in the tent, reading the books.

_Could it be real? What if she's not lying? There have been so many events over the years, and... They should have helped, but never did. _

_I'm scared._

When she finally goes to sleep, it's only nightmares of potions and manipulative headmasters that greet her.

* * *

**AN:** I may end up posting all the future-dream bits I have written for this here at some point, but probably not, they don't really go anywhere. This is at least self-contained and stands alone tolerably.

For anyone wondering how Hermione can claim the debt; the story is that Harry snuck out before the first task and made a will, making Hermione the primary beneficiary. That's one of the future-dream sequences I have written, when the will comes out.


	3. Double Time - Discarded Version

**Summary:** Time travel doesn't always work out as planned. Sometimes, things double up, and really; how the hell are you supposed to account for that?

**A/N:** This is my original attempt at starting Double Time, I ditched it for the other start because I realised I didn't want to start with them so young, or without any established friendships or relationships.  
I don't think it's terrible, just wasn't the best place to start this story.

**Characters:** Hermione, Hermione

* * *

**April 16th, 1991, Wednesday. Number 9 Heathgate, Hampstead Garden Estate, London **

This was not according to plan. Not that what she had before was according to plan either – what of it she could remember, the self-obliviations worked quite well, thank Merlin – but this, this was definitely not according to plan.

Certainly, she was in her house in Crawley, that part of the plan worked.

Indeed, she appeared to be younger – an excellent success, another box ticked.

Her room was still pink – which means she was, in fact, in the right period of time. Nothing wrong there, not at all.

The fact she was naked? Not particularly unexpected, not sufficient to cause issue anyway.

The fact she was staring at another her, another Hermione, who was snoring lightly under the covers of her – _our?_ – bed? That, that was not according to plan. She wasn't exactly sure if it was disastrous; the Hogwarts letters wouldn't be out yet – the room was still pink – but it was certainly a complication. There wasn't much to do but to think, what was to be done; what could be done. Her plans had never included the possibility – being her older self? Well, she'd have just gone, rescued Harry, raised him and herself in magic along with her parents, and been happy with their lives. Their better, kinder lives.

She had considered it most likely she would be overwriting herself – and prepared accordingly. Modifying her memories so she wouldn't be insane. She didn't really understand the whole process, she was just... fifteen. A fifteen-year-old girl crafted from twenty-seven-year-old women, with bits and pieces deemed important put back in.

She could only hope the obliviations really worked, she didn't remember what had _happened_ to her, only a few scenes she had narrated back to herself to listen to in a Pensieve. If they came back she wasn't sure she'd be able to survive, just the few that had been narrated were traumatising to listen to. She'd had nightmares each night before the return ritual.

There wasn't much research on the subject of whether obliviations are permanent or not. _Bloo- Magicals. Honestly, do they ever research anything? _Thinking over the foolishness of magical Britain, she huffs. Not even noticing she had censored herself in a way she hadn't for three years, a sign she was back to her younger, more Innocent personality.

Shivering slightly, she realises it is fairly cold, and she is in fact, still naked. This being her room (despite the presence of the other owner of said room) there is little pause in her actions to collect a spare set of night clothes and slip them on.

While at it, she spots the clock and sees it's just before midnight, her parents – _They're alive!_ – would still be asleep. She's almost giddy at the thought of seeing her parents again, one of the reasons she came back. One of the many reasons.

In her glee she steps on the creaky floorboard in the room, one she had forgotten about in her twelve-year absence from this house.

At the sound her counterpart, Hermione junior, stirs. Blinking in the dim moonlight that is illuminating the room, she stares at herself, clearly confused. Hermione senior stares back briefly, before rushing over and covering her younger - _Is she younger, or the same age. Not that it matters. This is weird - _self's mouth with her hand.

"Please, be quiet. I... I have no idea if I can explain this without sounding crazy. But Hermione" _That is weird to hear myself say, even in context_ "you see, you're a witch. And... I'm, um, you. Also a witch, just, well, from the future." Looking her counterpart in the eyes she sees a distinct level of sleepy bafflement, definitely tiredness, and a whole lot of '_what in the name of Merlin does this mean' _although, at this point, young Hermione is likely not yet swearing by Merlin.

"I will explain, but first. I guess you should... maybe think, uh, I'm your older sister? Twin?" She drops her eyes and mutters "I _so _did not plan for this possibility." Looking back up she sees a surprising hint of longing in her younger self's eyes. She doesn't remember that time too well, it wasn't a focus, something she needed, but back then she had been lonely. Had she dreamed of having a sister? She had definitely dreamed of having a friend, maybe they'd be one and the same, this time around.

-oOoOo-

Hermione Granger slowly stirred from her sleep, as she the floorboards of her room creak loudly. Wondering why someone would be in her room, she sits up – glancing around to see...

Herself?

_What?_

Utterly baffled Hermione assumes she must be dreaming, there isn't rally much other response to seeing _herself_ do a... happy dance while half dressed in her night clothes. _This is a weird dream, _she thinks blearily.

The other Hermione spots her staring, stares back for a moment then rushes over. Before she can utter a startled _'Eep!' _a hand is covering her mount and she's half listening to a rather strange one-sided conversation.

"Please, be quiet. I... I have no idea if I can explain this without sounding crazy." _Well, if this isn't a dream, it's already crazy, so that's fine. _"But Hermione, you see, you're a witch." _Definitely crazy. _"And... I'm, um, you." Hermione just blinks at this, still finding the 'this is a dream' angle most plausible. "Also a witch," _Well, if I'm you, you're me, and I'm a witch, obviously you're a witch too. Duh. _"just, um, from the future." _That did not go where I was expecting._ She tries, tiredly, to project the shear essence of _What._ At her... herself? By the look on her own face, it appears to be working to some degree.

"I will explain, but first. I guess you should... maybe think, ah, I'm your older sister?" _That sounds... _"Twin?" _really nice. A sister, a friend? She'd even like the same things I do! _She barely hears the muffled mention of lack of planning, and readily ignores it, focusing on the idea of _finally_ having someone to talk to, to be friends with.

Even if they do turn out to be her time travelling self from the future who happens to be a witch.

_This is a nice dream._

-oOoOo-

"So, can you keep quiet?" The younger Hermione nods her head "Alright, I need you to answer a couple of questions – I don't know when we are-"

"April 16th, 1991, it's a Tuesday." Little Hermione quickly responds, "or maybe 17th, is it past midnight?"

"It's not. Right, okay. That's not bad, I was aiming for before May of this year, didn't get too far before it but it'll be enough." She sighs, wondering if she'll have enough time "The next question, and I want you to think about this one, is if you want me to be here – with you and our parents." She stares into the eyes of her younger self, briefly wishing she was any good at Legilimency, before questioning the ethics of mind reading a child counterpart in what is now an alternate time-line. _This nonsense must have been how Harry felt all the time._

Little Hermione starts chewing on her lip as she looks down and thinks - _No wonder Harry thought that was distracting, it's adorable – _"I... Would you be my sister? I mean really, would my, our, parents be able to accept this? It's not like we could keep it a secret from them, twice the food, you'll need to go to school or stay in the house all the time, so something has to be done." She pauses for a moment "I'm still not convinced this isn't a dream."

Older Hermione promptly pinches her younger self.

"Ow!" rubbing her arm she scowls, "Okay, not a dream. Now how about the crazy?"

Sitting back and rolling her eyes Hermione goes for the simple option – demonstration; "_Lumos." _She can cast wandlessly, but not many spells. She is however surprised at how draining the simple _Lumos_ was, she had expected her magic to be weaker if she got a younger body, but not _this _much weaker.

Little Hermione is noticeably surprised by the sudden light in the room, and also wincing at there being a bright light in a previously dimly lit room. "So, not crazy? Okay."

Hermione the elder nods "_Nox._ As for being your sister, I remember... not very well how you feel at the moment, but I remember how lonely it was. Getting my first friend was the best thing that happened to me this year, for... for so many years." She can feel tears forming in her eyes "As for mum and dad, I can cast a spell to make them not notice they have two children, which would do until we get our wands. After that I could... Edit myself in." She can feel the grimace on her face as she says those words, reminding her of the lie about memory charming her parents and sending them to Australia, the lie she had told Harry.

"Edit... yourself in?" Little Hermione is apprehensive, unnerved by the idea and the way her counterpart seems unhappy with the idea.

"Yes. There are spells that can alter someone's memory, and ways to protect against that. I guess teaching you Occlumency is going to be my biggest priority leading up to September first." Realising she might have to ditch her plans to rescue Harry early, Hermione is finding herself quite upset, in a way she is not used to dealing with anymore.

Little Hermione briefly glances between the bed they are sitting on and her counterpart's now tear-filled eyes, before leaning over and giving her a hug.

"Would it be easier if you weren't here?"

"No. No, it wouldn't." She shakes her head "If I had my older body – that was one possibility I had planned for – I wouldn't have stayed here for a moment. But I would have found you later, to be a friend, to have you meet our best friend." Taking a breath to calm herself and returning the hug she continues "This was unexpected, but in some ways better. Easier to integrate myself, but harder to work. My magic is weaker too, same strength as yours is."

"Really?"

"Really. Doing anything takes practice – and knowing me you will practice a lot – but I seem to have gone back to the reserves I had at eleven. Which was well above average! Second strongest in our year! But, an adults magic would have been useful." Older Hermione grumbles the last part, more frustrated than upset.

Little Hermione hugs her older-self tighter at this, hoping to show that she's there, can be a friend, can help. She wants to help, obviously if it was important enough for her to come back in time it's important enough for her to help with. The implications of paradoxes be damned, she had _reasons._

"You need to stay because adults would find a young girl wandering around alone suspicious, and you probably need money?"

"The first part yes, but money? I can get money – we're descended from a fairly famous wizard – it's not a huge amount, but it's an inheritance that'll be useful." Older Hermione leans in closer and rest her head against her counterparts, enjoying feeling of closeness she hasn't had in years. "It'll take a dozen galleons – that's wizard money, about a hundred pounds? – to do the blood test, then we'll have access to a few thousand galleons of inheritance." She pauses, "We will share the book budget."

The littler Hermione snickers at that, happy that she never lost her love of books, however old she had gotten.

"So, I need to go try casting the spell on Mum and Dad, so they think it's normal to have two Hermiones in the house, then we should sleep." She pulls out of the hug, so she can see her other self's face "Would you like me to take the guest room, or be in here with you?"

Chewing on her lower lip little Hermione thinks for a bit before responding "Here please, I don't want to be lonely. I just got my sister, I want to keep her." Even in the dim light, her beaming smile, buck-teeth and all, is plainly visible.

Elder Hermione can't help but smile back, "Alright, be back in a few minutes."

She heads out of the room quietly, sneaks over to her parents' door and eases it open – casting a wandless _Confundo_ on them "Two Hermiones is normal, they are twins who you gave the same name to. Nothing is odd about there being two." Feeling extremely drained from casting the spell, she heads back to her, now shared, room and crawls into bed.

She is swiftly latched onto and responds by cuddling her younger self back. _I hope the nightmares stay away, even if just for tonight_.

It doesn't take long for the old, familiar room, the scents and sounds of her old home to draw her to sleep.

-oOoOo-

**April 17th, 1991, Wednesday. Number 9 Heathgate, Hampstead Garden Estate, London **

It was weird to wake up next to someone Hermione found, pleasant but weird. She had hair in her mouth, not that she wasn't used to it, her own hair got went everywhere after all. The hair even tasted like her own hair - although, considering it _was _ her hair, just her hair on a time travelling duplicate, the taste wasn't that surprising.

She was still confused by all of this and finding it hard to believe it wasn't a dream.

If it was, it happens to be a very warm, huggable dream. So, it's not like she was complaining or anything, much better than the dreams of having her books stolen, or the name-calling, or oversized teeth. - _I can ask if our teeth ever get better! - _Smiling at that thought she hugs her new sister tighter, and nestles her face into her hair, sighing contentedly.

-oOoOo-

Hermione, the elder this time, stirs, far less calmly than her younger self. She struggles briefly against the restraining arms of her little sister, before stilling and taking in her surroundings. It takes a few moments and hearing a whispered "What's wrong?" before her breathing settles.

"I... I'm a bit jumpy, don't worry about it." She was really glad she hadn't reacted worse, she can feel her agitated magic. She could have blown out a window if she wasn't still so drained from the wandless _Confundo _ she cast last night.

That spell wouldn't last either, she needs Professor McGonagall to show up soon, so she can go to Diagon, get a wand and provide something more permanent. She hates the idea of messing with her parents' memories, even if she could get consent, no matter how experienced she is with the spell altering people's minds, memories, it hits far too close to home to be comfortable.

"You sure you're okay?" There's concern in Hermione the younger's voice, which elder Hermione finds touching. She reaches up and squeezes the arms hugging her, before lifting them off so she can sit up and look at her counterpart and give her a smile.

"I'm sure."

"If it's alright to ask, um, how far in the future did you come from?"

Hermione blanks briefly before responding "That's a simple question, with a complicated answer. I am, functionally, fifteen from late November of 1994. But as for when I came back from..." She trails off, uneasily "2007, the end of July, when I was twenty-seven."

The younger Hermione is understandable confused by this and is ready with a barrage of questions but forestalled by her counterpart continuing on.

"You see, we came back because horrible things happened. To us, that is. Traumatising horrible things, we were... used, used to slowly break our best friend, and as a... as a _toy_ for our supposed other friend. It started just before Christmas of the year my memories stop - I have bits and pieces from later on, as well as recordings and notes, but not memories. I don't think I want those memories back, ever."

"So, we - I - had been broken, living a nightmare for years, so she, the future me with all her memories that is, decided she needed to be innocent again. So she made preparations and... erased herself." As she finishes speaking, the elder Hermione has unconsciously grabbed her younger self and is holding her tightly, as tears begin to fall.

Young Hermione hugs her back, somewhat unsure of how to help the older girl and make her feel better, so she just squeezes as hard as she can.

-oOoOo-

It's a fair while later that they separate and feel up to talking again, so young-Hermione gets onto an issue that has been bugging her since she woke up; how confusing it is to be talking to someone with the same name as herself.

"Hey, um, Hermione?" she says, awkwardly, "This is horrible, trying to... what if someone asks for Hermione, how are we going to know which of us they're asking for? It's so confusing!" she huffs.

"A little bit, yeah. Should we... make nicknames for ourselves, or change one of our names?"

"I _like _my - our - name. Also, it'll be funny. Nicknames would be good, but only for people we really like." _Like Harry. Or Luna, _the older Hermione thinks.

"I like our name too! Um, did you ever get a nickname?"

"A couple. By..." she winces at the flashes of memory "By someone I don't- No. Someone I _hate." _Little Hermione is surprised by the vehemence in her older self's' voice but takes her hand reassuringly. "We won't use those. Harry... He called me 'Nee once, it wasn't terrible. He respected our name, unlike a fair few others."

"'Nee? It's not bad I guess." Little Hermione frowns slightly "I _don't _like nicknames. But we do need them, don't we?"

"We do. I can take 'Nee, but we need a second." Hermione-Nee chews on her lower lip as she tries to think of nicknames that wouldn't be _terrible_ for her younger counterpart.

Said counterpart, see her own thinking habit on her older self starts giggling, earning a brief glare after Hermione-Nee figures out _why_ the giggling started.

"Mia? Would that be okay?" Hermione-Nee asks

"I guess. We're still going by Hermione to most people, and letting them deal with the mix-up?" Still smiling from the giggles, the newly dubbed Mia is starting to find the idea of being a twin attractive. After Hermione-Nee mentioned keeping the same name as _funny _she realised she could have fun with it, as well as having fun with having a twin to play off of.

Even if they know each other both very well, and not well enough right now.

"Definitely sister Hermione-Mia. Our names aren't perfectly identical, by the way. I don't know _why, _but... I had my middle name forcibly changed in fifth year, to Jean."

"What? Who could do that?"

"I... it's not a pleasant thing to talk about, I've had to... edit parts of my memory, block it. It wasn't happy."

Mia sits up and frowns "You're going to change that, right? Make it happier?"

"Stop the bad people from making it _unhappy _is more like it. It may even be best for you to not join me, you can stay with mum and dad, and-"

"No! You mean not learning magic right? No. I'm going with you. You know what's coming, you can stop it. We won't lose. We won't. Whatever happened that was so bad you came back we'll stop, together." The energy and eagerness Hermione had before finding bullies existed in the magical world too is unrestrained in Hermione-Mia, and Hermione-Nee can't help but smile at it.

"Right. We Grangers' don't give up, don't stop."

"'Cause we're stubborn like that." Hermione-Mia nods.

The two hear a call from downstairs "Girls! Breakfast!"

Mia jumps up, and shouts back "Coming Mum!", she then looks at Hermione-Nee and says "Well, she said 'girls', so come on!" as she speeds out the door to get to breakfast.

* * *

**A/N:** The residence I've used is the 'most' canonical house for Hermione - it's the one depicted in the movies, which, to my knowledge was the only reference to where Hermione actually lived ever given. Not a terribly important detail, but it is one that exists.  
Also, it's about an hour away from the area where Grimmauld has to be by public transport, which is interesting in of itself.


	4. Together

**Summary: **Harry and Hermione have see the war to its end, Voldemort - Tom Riddle - is dead, but as they watch the sun set they are overrun with melancholy. They won the war, they are heroes - so where is their happy ending?

**Author's Note: **This is, what a surprise, yet another opening to a time-travel story I wrote. This actually pre-dates _In a Blue Moon_, _Double Time_ \- both versions - and _Saved By a Bell_. Technically it's different in that it was meant to be a Time-Travel AU story - in the vein of _From Ruin_ by GreaFoxx, _Of Time and Saints_ by Temporal Knight, or _Dodging Prison and Stealing Witches - Revenge is Best Served Raw _by LeadVonE, but I have no idea what I would do with it now.

It's a fairly clumsy story, even after an editing pass, but as my third 'complete' - I wrote a lot of snippets and outlines before this - attempt at writing a narrative-driven work, that's not terribly surprising. I may take this concept back, after a thorough rewrite of this prologue, for use in starting an AU time-travel, or crossover, story at some point, but I have _Double Time_ and _In a Blue Moon_ to finish first.

I will accept the fact I'm doomed to writing time-travel fics happily, they're either my second or third favourite type of story, and I'm mentally unsuited to writing both the one which takes the top-spot, and the other one that is jostling for second place.

**Warnings: **Love potions, mental manipulation, Weasley and Dumbledore bashing, joint suicide.

**Characters: **Harry, Hermione, Luna

**8:45 PM, 2nd of May, 1998, The Ramparts, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Hermione was sat on the parapets of Hogwarts watching the sunset, Hermione looked pensive, mournful and subdued. "We won," she said, her voice soft and laced with regret, "So why don't we get a happy ending?"

Harry was stood behind her, staring over her head at the sunset. He didn't really know how to reply, so he gave her the only response he could, "I don't know," he glanced down at her as she curled into a ball, "but then, my life was never fair."

The air between them hung silent, brittle and pained, as the waited and watched the sun dip ever lower and the inevitable draw closer.

"No, not fair." Hermione said, "Never that." Her response was wet with emotion, and Harry couldn't help but cringe at the sound of her hurt - it cut into him deeper than his own pains, know that by standing by him she had been doomed just as he was.

Harry moved up and sat beside her, close enough to touch if either chose too, but neither did. Both sat, solemnly waiting for the doom that approached with the coming dawn.

"They'll start the potions again tomorrow. Make sure we're pliable." Hermione's voice broke through the quiet again, "As if the contracts and bindings weren't enough." She laughed, out of desperation if nothing else.

Harry reached out towards her, to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but flinched back as if he was burned. He knew that even the slightest touch would invoke things they couldn't have, would never be able to have.

"I only wish you hadn't been caught up in this. That you had escaped with your parents." Harry's voice was barely a whisper, but Hermione heard him anyway.

"I could never abandon you! Never." She turned to him with a sharp look on her face, "Nothing would make-"

Harry cut her off quickly, "Tomorrow we don't get that choice." He turned away, unable to look her in the eye and so she doesn't see the pained grimace that marred his face, "They're going to separate us, permanently. It's not enough to own us, they want to break us too." His last words were barely a whisper, a mixture of cold anger and choked back sorrow.

He pulled his voice up and continued, "I asked Kreacher to spy on them after I saw Snape's memories of their older plans. They intend to mark us with runes - the same effect as sixth year, only..."

"Only worse." Hermione uncurled and leaned over to take him into a hug, desperately wishing the pain away. "Do you..." She paused as Harry buried himself into her hair and they both started crying, "Do you thing it was worth it? Winning, I mean."

"No." He enveloped her with his own arms, returning the hug and pulling her close.

The sun had finished setting before they released each other, tears staining their faces. Hermione stared into Harry's bright green eyes and finally asked the question which had been dancing in her mind, "Do you wish you hadn't gotten back up, that when you- " She choked on the word, "When you died, that you hadn't come back? She saw him reading to answer, but she wasn't done so she pushed onward, "That you didn't have to face this, didn't have to deal with more of this- this crap! I- I..."

"Hermione. I came back because... because we weren't finished. You needed me, I needed you, I couldn't leave you alone." He stared back into her chocolate brown orbs as he finished, "I couldn't abandon you."

"And yet, we don't have a choice." Her quiet words shatter him once again, and pulled her back into him, crying into her curls.

Her her hand through his hair she continued, "We could... we have until they wake up, what if we end it?" Hermione's voice had become ashen with a cold anger, "They've protected themselves from us, but not use from ourselves. What if we just end it, denying them their victory?" She couldn't see his face, but that didn't matter - she had an idea, a way out, a way to not lose themselves or each other.

"We could make it one last act – the wand, it needs to be destroyed, right? What if we broke into the Ministry again, just the two of us, and carried it through the Veil." Her mind had started to turn away from their impending doom, planning what they would need to do - getting out of hogwarts, a will, the wand, stone and cloak, the maze to reach the veil of death. It was a plan. A terrible, horrifying plan - but one better than the alternative. "Security will be weak, not that it was ever good, giving us one last hurrah and..."

"And we'll be together until the end. At the end..." As she finished speaking the reality of what she had said set in, the fact she just suggested joint suicide hit her. She pulled away from Harry, her hands covering her mouth as she sputtered, "I- I didn't. Harry-"

He grabbed her before she could bolt away and asked, "Do you want to live, Hermione?"

As she sat there, unable to answer, he changed tactics.

"Do you want to marry Ron Weasley?"

Shocked back into coherence she practically shouted back, "No! Of course, I-"

Harry pushed on and cut her off, "Do you want to see me married to Ginny?"

"No." This time, Hermione's answer is much more subdued.

"Do you want to be separated from me?"

"No." She realised where he was going and just started shaking her head sadly.

"Do you want to be controlled, dictated too and made a housewife?"

"No." The anger returned to her voice, angered by the questions, but not angry at Harry - angry at those forcing their will on the beleaguered teens, some even after their own deaths.

"Then, Hermione, do you want to live?" He cut her off before she could answer and continued "Because, if you don't want to live, I don't want to live in a world without you. My best friend – maybe even the only friend I've had, the only one that wasn't fake."

She latched onto the last part of what he said and answered his not-a-question far more easily than she would the one he repeated "Luna. She doesn't have a deceitful bone in her body."

"True. But you need to answer me, Hermione."

"I... No. I don't want to face this- There's nothing. My parents – they don't remember me, and... Then, after that, it's just you." She was unable to keeping looking at Harry, so she stared down at his arms, still grasping hers so she couldn't flee. "My only friend."

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and throws her own answer to the unasked question back at her, "Luna?"

"Was never my friend; I never disliked her, but she was your friend. Not mine."

Closing his eyes Harry let go of her "I'm sorry."

"I understand, it was a stupid-" Hermione started up, quickly trying to distance herself from him again.

Harry shook his head and repeated himself, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I always knew you would die for me, and I would die for you, now... Now we'll finally do it." He paused briefly and seemed to realise the lack of clarity in his words "Die, I mean. I don't want the life they have planned for me any more than you do."

As the words sank in, Hermione started shaking, before running back and giving Harry another bone-crushing Hermione-hug, burying her head into his neck. "Together." Her words were a whisper for only him to hear.

"Together." He repeated back.

-oOoOo-

When Harry went to collect the Elder Wand from the seventh year Gryffindor dormitory where he had stashed it he was shocked to find it lying atop the Invisibility Cloak, which was folded neatly, and Resurrection Stone which he had dropped in the Forbidden Forest there with it. Unnerved he picked up all three items, draping the cloak over his shoulder, but not covering himself with it yet, while holding the stone and wand.

He went back down to the common room to meet up with Hermione, who had gone to the girl's dormitories to clean up and collect what few things she had left there. With everyone else either celebrating victory or mourning the dead, the two of them were the only ones in the tower.

"Harry, I think we should stop by Gringotts first; I don't know if you've made a will-"

"I have, but it's not official?" At Harry's response she nodded, then continued.

"So, we need to go to Gringotts and have an official witness to a Will for each of us, so that no one can steal from us after this." There was a sharp pain in her voice when she referred to their planned suicide.

They stood there for a moment, letting themselves get dragged off into the peaceful silence that followed. But the tension built as what they were planning settled in again.

To break the quiet Harry blurted out, "The Stone, the Resurrection Stone I mean, it turned up with the cloak and wand."

Hermione looked startled for a moment, before giving a single nod, "That's... that's good, actually, we can get rid of all three at once. The Cloak may be fine, but the other two... They just shouldn't exist, too much pain." She grimaced, "Too much death."

Harry idly rolled the stone around his palm with his fingers, drawing Hermione's attention to it, "Do you think my parents would be okay with this?" He asked, thinking briefly of using the stone again to ask them directly.

Watching his hand Hermione walked over and clasped his hand between hers and gently pried the stone away from him, "I don't think they'll be happy, but I doubt they would be happy with the life you would be force to live either. Death, or bondage." She wore a sad smile as she took the stone from him and pocketed it, "If you don't want to go through with it, we won't."

Hermione hung her head and started running her hand up and down the scar on her arm, waiting for Harry's response.

"No, no. We're going through with it. Death is... it isn't scary. Nor horrifying, unlike the idea of living as a potioned pet of the traitors." There was a certainty to his voice which Hermione found reassuring and had her walk forward to give him a brief squeeze.

She released him and stated, "We should get going, the one-eyed witch's tunnel past the wards and Apparating to Diagon Alley is probably best."

Harry quickly agreed, and the two use the Map and Cloak to avoid detection as they headed for the witch to depart the castle for the last time.

-oOoOo-

With the Death Eaters and Voldemort's loyalists all having gone to fight at Hogwarts earlier that day, Diagon Alley was basically deserted. No one was present when the pair apparate into the alley, and even as the two crouch under the cloak they saw no one as they approached Gringotts.

It was quite surprising that despite the remaining damage to the bank from their impromptu dragon-rider escape the doors were open, even this late into the evening. A pair of goblin guards seemed to perk up as they approached, sniffing the air and looking around the empty alley.

When they got close enough to be heard clearly, but not close enough to be in danger Hermione called out "Is the bank open for business?" the pair had decided that Hermione should deal with talking to the Goblins, outside of directly handling Harry's vaults.

One of the guards simply grunted and stared in the direction of Hermione's voice – disturbingly accurately – while the other barked out "The bank is open." Then pointedly ignored them and looked out over the rest of the alley.

As they two moved up the steps to the bank Hermione shrugged off the cloak, making sure that she is clear of it and Harry is uncovered before they enter the bank proper. Both guards turned to glare at them as they did this, but neither make any further comment.

They went up to the nearest open Cashier – only three were manned, but there were no other customers in the bank so late at night – Hermione said, "We need to see someone about Last Wills and Testaments, and the accounts of Harry Potter." Gesturing to herself after a moment, she realised that she needs to identify herself, "I'm Hermione Granger."

The Cashier simply glared, grunted acceptance and said, "Follow." as he slammed his stall closed, hopped off of his stool and headed to the doors leading deeper into the bank.

Somewhat uncertainly the pair followed, understandably nervous about being in the bank they so recently broke into.

Trying to ease their nerves Harry leaned over to Hermione to whisper in her ear, "Well, the worst they could do is kill us, so it wouldn't be too far out of our plans, right?" he chuckled briefly at his own joke, but when Hermione turned to him with an appalled expression he stopped short, and her light punch to his arm went uncommented on as they go back to following the Cashier.

They Reached a fairly ornate door where the Cashier stopped, he hammered on it three times then called out "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, here for Wills and Accounts." The Cashier sounded annoyed, if not outright angry for one reason or another.

From behind the door a voice called out, "Enter."

The Cashier opened the door, nodded to the pair and gestured them inside, once they enter he slammed the door behind them while remaining outside.

The office was fairly spartan, but clearly marked with wealth – many fierce weapons adorned the walls, all well maintained and shining in the office's light. A low desk took prominence in the room, a few scattered pieces of parchment atop it along with a single, brightly burning candle.

Three simple chairs sat in front of the desk, while behind it is a much more ornate and comfortable looking seat, in which sat a rather old and wizened looking goblin.

"Ah, shown up at last have you. Seven years late, and here to talk about wills." He grinned, all sharp menacing teeth, "Not quite what I expected our first meeting to be about, but then, you are a Potter." He paused briefly, then added, "A Potter-Black, at that. Potter luck and Black insanity, perhaps not the most stable mix."

As the two are somewhat befuddled, they didn't react immediately, but Harry recovered first and blurted out "You expected me seven years ago?" Hermione jerked her head towards Harry when he spoke, then grabs his arm and squeezed it, but didn't say anything.

"Yes, seven years ago – well, on your eleventh birthday or soon after to be exact." The goblin looked at Harry quizzically for a moment before adding "Even if you had no intended business, the affairs and wills of your parents and grandparents needed to be settled. I am aware of your visit with one Mr. Hagrid, and the Weasley families in nineteen ninety-one, and nineteen ninety-two respectively, but you proceeded directly to your trust vault on both occasions."

The goblin pressed his lips into a firm line, and glowered at them both "On both occasions you failed to interact with the bank's clerks directly, nor did you hand over your key yourself. Allowing others to represent you – and with your lack of control over your own key there have been a number of irregularities with the trust vault." The goblin looked decidedly annoyed by this and seemed perfectly willing to take it out on Harry.

Releasing Harry's arm Hermione spoke up, "As interesting, and informative, as all this is, we are both on somewhat of a time limit tonight, Mr..."

Glancing at Hermione the goblin paused, then said "Sharpshard" before he turned back to glower at Harry again.

Hermione realised that Sharpshard is involved in Harry's accounts somehow, and was thus only answering to him. So she gave Harry a sharp nudge with her elbow.

"Er." Getting nudged Harry realised he needs to say something, "Ah, Hermione knows more than me about this – and I trust her with pretty much everything? So, if you could answer her question, that'd be helpful." There is something decidedly intimidating about a goblin's glower, in ways Dragons and Dark Lords are not. A distinct implication of '_It's YOUR fault._' And '_You lost ME money._' Harry found it quite unpleasant, and wished Sharpshard would stop.

Sharpshard turned his gaze back to Hermione, looked her up and down before sighing and leaning back into his chair. He gestured for both of them to take a seat, which they do, "I am assuming the time limit has to do with the contracts due to enforce at Dawn following the defeat of '_the dark lord'_. Am I correct?"

The pair nod and Sharpshard snorted in response, "If you had come as little as a year ago they could have been revoked, unfortunately they are now irreversible. I am curious... No, I see. I see. Wills and Testaments then?"

His glower returned in full force, "I did not expect my first meeting with a Potter in seventeen years to be the last meeting with a Potter I shall ever have. I do, however, recognise your reasoning, and perhaps in other circumstances would even admire it." After a guttural curse in Gobbledegook he finished with, "Damn Wizards, and their ability to pervert any and all things into evil."

Seeing Sharpshard is finished with his tirade once more, Hermione took the opportunity to speak, "A Will for each of us, for... the reasons you've mentioned. And, for the recent incident at the bank, Harry's offered to pay any reparations necessary." There was a slight worried look on her face as she finished, but Harry nodded confirmation to what she said.

Sharpshard reached into a drawer to pull out a pair of parchments and a quill as Hermione was speaking, but as she finished he looked up at her narrowed his eyes and said, "What Incident?"

Nervously Hermione responded, "The incident with the dragon and the Lestrange vault."

His eyes widened, Sharpshard looked them over and hummed to himself, then said "I can't see why you would need to pay reparations. A piece of dark magic in the Lestrange vault lost its containment, broke a dragons' chains and made... quite the disturbance. Reparations for dangerous dark magic and damage to the bank has already been taken from relevant parties." He paused and grinned, viciously. "The idea two humans were involved, why, that sounds like a robbery – and as we all know, Gringotts has never been robbed, nor will it ever be."

Harry just stared blankly at that statement, while Hermione is taken aback, blinked, then gained comprehension of what Sharpshard is implying. When Harry moved to speak Hermione jabbed him with her elbow again to shut him up.

It took him a moment more, but comprehension dawned for Harry as he looks over Hermione's facial expressions. He nodded in relief and settled back down. "The Wills, then." He said.

In response to Harry Sharpshard passed over a writing board to each of them, along with quill and parchment from the drawer and curtly stated, "The Wills, indeed."

It was more than two hours later that the pair finished being guided through the process of creating, witnessing and signing – with a blood quill – their Wills. Almost entirely legalese, neither of them fully understand the details of their wills, but the general gist was clear to see.

Harry had left all monies he received from Sirius, and anything in the Black vaults – of which it turned out there were three – to Edward Remus Lupin, his Godson. He felt a pang of guilt when he realised he would be abandoning the child, but a broken and controlled man would make no better a godfather than an absent one.

The Potter vaults had largely been stripped by the Weasleys and Dumbledore, but the twelve thousand galleons that remained he left to Luna Lovegood, for being a friend, and not a traitor like so many others.

Hermione's will is far simpler since she didn't have to deal with house inheritance. But she did decide to put aside the majority to a scholarship for Muggleborn students at Hogwarts, under the condition they remain free of any binding magical contracts and were checked for mind-effecting potions regularly until they are of age. A slight bitterness could be seen on her face as she read over that condition before signing.

Anything that remained she left to Luna Lovegood, referring to her as her one true friend besides Harry, who is jokingly mentioned as having to already be dead otherwise he would have saved her life. Again.

Finally, they leave thirty silver sickles to Ronald and Ginny, to be presented directly along with a copy of the bible bookmarked to the appropriate section. They bid their farewells to Sharpshard, who had signed as witness to the wills, and the pair leave the bank. Wands in hand, and ready to infiltrate the Ministry they go to face their end, for one of them for the second time.

If in the recesses of the bank an old goblin smiled sadly and muttered that even when pushed, controlled and manipulated, Potters remain true, no one is there to take notice nor care.

-oOoOo-

As before, entering the Ministry of magic was almost pathetically easy. The Atrium was empty, and beneath the cloak with their feet _Silencio'd_ it would have been easy to sneak past any guards posted, but any who might have been there before had vanished.

Both Harry and Hermione were wearing badges declaring '_Suicide Attempt'_ as their reason for visiting after Harry jokingly said they were there to visit the Veil of Death to the answering machine. Unsurprisingly Hermione admonished him for his decision, albeit pointlessly as they had already reached the elevators and were heading down to level nine unaccosted.

As they stepped out of the Elevator and started down the corridor, Hermione could feel Harry's tension, this was not a good place for either of them – her injury and scar came from this place, and Sirius... she shuddered briefly at the thought that they are departing in the same manner he did two years ago.

Wrapping an arm around Harry she gave him a squeeze of reassurance – she was with him, he wasn't alone, it would be over soon. She was a little surprised he responded in kind, but she realised he probably still felt guilty over her getting hurt here, alongside the guilt he felt from losing Sirius by getting lured here.

No one had helped him cope, not after Cedric, not after Sirius. Just left him in a prison, and expected him to be happy, or at least functional. She clenched her teeth and tried to push her behaviour in sixth year out of her mind, knowing that it was at least in part due to the potions they had been fed by the Weasleys. But she was still fearful that there truly was something in her capable of doing that, of betraying her closest friend. '_My only friend'_ she thought bitterly, regretting every moment she had pushed him away and focused on Ron.

Harry isn't entirely oblivious to Hermione's internal battle, but attributed it to returning to where she was so badly injured, rather than her insecurities and fears of being a bad friend.

The moving doors led them directly to the Death Chamber when asked, a baffling oddity of the Department considering how little it does for security.

The two of them paused the moment they stepped inside, not because of the memories of the chamber – or, at least, not just – but because sitting on the stone steps staring at the Veil was a small blond girl, humming a haunting, sorrowful tune to herself.

Luna Lovegood.

Neither Harry nor Hermione were quite sure what to make of Luna being here before them, staring at the veil like she was. Still holding onto each other they carefully made their way forward but stopped once they heard her begin talking.

"It was nice, mommy, having friends. It truly was. One could forget how to be sad with friends, forget how people think and look and speak." Her words were seemingly for the two of them – even addressed as they were to her mother – but she gave no other indication that she knew Harry and Hermione were in the chamber with her.

"I thought the Nargles would keep everyone away forever, but there they were. Being friendly, with me! That's what friends do, I suppose. I never thought about it all that much, but friends must be friendly to friends? But that doesn't explain the Weasleys, they weren't very friendly to friends." She shook her head back and forth, what remained of her blond mane bouncing lightly.

"Should I have tried harder to tell them? They were their friends first, so maybe they wouldn't believe me, didn't believe me. I did try, I told them about the Nargles and Wrackspurts, but they listened to their older friends. Is there seniority in friendship?" She tilted her head sideways and looked idly to a wall off to the left.

"There must be. I wasn't a very good friend. Didn't understand. Don't understand." Her words were shaky, quieter. "I hope I get to have friends again. It was... It was nice."

Luna stood up, and turned to leave the chamber, while under the cloak Harry and pulled Hermione tightly against him, as she covered her mouth with one hand and had started crying.

Luna gave one last look around the chamber, her eyes passing over the hidden duo, but not stopping. As she started crying she says quietly, but just loud enough to be heard, "Goodbye, friends." and ran out of the chamber, slamming the door behind her.

"T-that was..." Hermione could barely find her voice, as she cried over Luna's words.

"Sad. It was sad." Harry quietly replied, blinking away a few tears of his own.

"We're leaving her alone, and it's so, so sad." Hermione can't help but shook as she thought about someone will miss her, will grieve that she was gone, rather than just Harry. "Her room, we meant so much to her. Are we still doing this?" She looked up at Harry, uncertainty written on her face.

He shrugged the cloak off of both of them, looking away from Hermione's pleading eyes and tried to reason it out, "If we continue she loses us, her friends. But if we stay... neither Ron or Ginny really liked her, would they let us stay her friends?" He turned back to Hermione and looked her in the eye "Even if we stay, we won't really be here, just puppets with strings for the Weasleys to pull."

Hermione nodded shakily at his words, trying to reconcile the emotional with the rational. But she still felt desperately sad for Luna. Once she finished she realised how long they have taken since starting their trip to the veil and pulled out her wand cast, "_Tempus"_ the spell spells out '_4:37 AM' _in the cold air of the chamber. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Harry's left hand with her right, "Dawn's coming soon, very soon. We need to go."

Seemingly unconsciously she was holding the Resurrection Stone she had pocketed in her left hand, while Harry had pulled out the Elder Wand with his right. The cloak, fallen from Harry's shoulders now draped over their linked arms.

With one last look at each other they both whispered, "Together." and walked down the steps, onto the platform and through the whispering gate of the Veil of Death.


	5. A Dream

**Summary: **Hermione has a dream about potions, then gets kidnapped.

**Author's Note:** This one didn't exactly have much of a plan behind it, which is rather the reason it died. Far too simplistic and bland a premise with nothing beyond cliches to hold the story itself up. I've ripped out the more blatant biases from it which made it somewhat better, but it still isn't a good story.

**Warnings:** None

**Characters:** Hermione, Remus, Sirius, Ron

**July 28th, 1995, Granger Residence, Hampstead Garden Estate, London, 1:35 AM**

Dreams were not something Hermione put much stock in, not after the disaster that was her time in Divination back in her third year; even without the hassle of the Time Turner that had been an unmitigated disaster. But the dream she just had, from which she had woken sweating and shivering under the covers, it horrified her. While Professor Trelawny was certainly a hack, Hermione knew that prophecies did actually exist, that foretelling existed. But they were either so obscure as to be useless or so rare as to statistically irrelevant.

Regardless of that here she was waking and crying in fear from a dream, at the idea it might become real. At the image of her being in a man's arms, staring into his eyes with unreserved devotion and longing. One hand on his face as he leers down at her, the other reaching for his trousers, as a bottle filled with pink liquid fell from his hand.

As it kept falling and falling.

Until, finally, it shattered on the cold, empty-eyed and barely breathing, broken body of her best friend; Harry Potter. Even as she had screamed in her mind, strangely lucid despite the complete lack of control, trying to wake herself from the burgeoning nightmare it had not relented. Leaving her to watch as she kissed the ambiguous figure, as she did she could feel Harry's body's breathing slow, stop, and the dull beating of his heart that had been reverberating in the dream cease.

_It can't have been,_ her thought whirling as she tried to calm herself, only to start sniffling uncontrollably, _Can't have been. Not real. Not real. Not real._ But there was a sinking feeling in her heart that something was wrong; magic was capable of many things, and killing hardly the most foul. Potions, compulsions, obliviations, even oaths, vows and life-debts. All ways to control someone into desecrating and defiling themselves and everything they stood for.

She was aware that boys had been looking at her more since the Yule Ball, even Malfoy and Ron, but she had ignored it of course. Her time was better spent on helping Harry with the latest danger he had been caught up in and her own studies than dealing with the teenage hormones of male students.

She doesn't even register that her previous obsession with house-elf welfare was tapering off, no longer jockeying for the centre of her attention. S.P.E.W had been her everything at the start of the previous year, to the point of ignoring meals and starving herself. Now foremost was Harry and her education, as it had been for the three years prior to starting S.P.E.W

She had tried to send Harry letters, but after the first one returned undelivered she knew something was wrong. Again. Like Dobby in their first summer and her being too far away in the second. Only their third, the previous one, had they managed any regular contact. Now in their fourth summer of being friends it was back to the old pattern, contact denied by means unknown. Calling him on the phone was out for different reasons, she had spoken to his aunt both times she tried and was fairly certain it had only made things worse for him.

_I need to know if Harry's safe, Need to know. It can't have been real. It wasn't; Harry is **not** dead. _It had taken near half an hour, but Hermione had begun to pull herself together, _Get it together Granger, he needs to know you care, even when you can't reach him. _She blushed slightly as she thought back to the peck on the cheek she had given him at the train station, hoping he had realised that it meant something, though she suspected he had not.

As lying in her bed was getting her nowhere, and certainly not back to sleep, Hermione pulled herself up and went to her trunk to pull out and read over her letters to Harry. She had tried by owl twice, but both had returned unopened - the second time a note had been attached by Dumbledore saying she shouldn't try to contact Harry and that he needed time to process the trauma of Cedric's death. _Process. That should be done with family, a therapist, someone, anyone to help_, she thought glumly, _Not those... relatives of his_, Immediately on getting home she had collected up a few psychology books to read, and leaving someone who has been traumatised to suffer alone was hardly recommended to be a good idea. Mostly certainly not a good idea in an abusive, or previously abusive, environment.

She wished it was the 31st, Harry's birthday, she had made arrangements with her parents to distract the Dursleys with talk of the uses of drills in dentistry over a business meal, while she would visit Harry at his home. _Three days,_ she frowned _He's going to be angry. _She had promised to write, but not one letter got through, even when sent by Royal Mail. Or, at least the letters she had gotten from him didn't indicate he had received them.

Thinking it prudent - and to show she _had_ tried, she had made duplicates of each letter, keeping them tucked away as bookmarks in her trunk. Every intent to hand them over as soon as she can, to show that she did try, she does care, to alleviate the niggling guilt she felt that she came from getting distracted by Krum instead of helping him more.

She leaned back in her bed with a sigh as she looked at the clock beside her, "2:24, I really should get back to sleep" she grumbled, hardly feeling like sleeping. After she has packed her letters away again she clambers into bed with a reading light and one of the heavier, drier psychology books. After an hour or so of reading and fretting Hermione has succeeded in reading herself to sleep, having thoroughly gone over the risks of leaving someone grieving in isolation and feeling all the worse for it.

-oOoOo-

Having slept, woken, dressed, showered and had a comfortable breakfast with her mum and dad Hermione was feeling much more relaxed than the previous night. The dream still lingered in her mind, in all its disturbing detail, but she could focus on other things. Such as reviewing her homework for the third time, making sure it was all as complete and error-free as possible, which she had done.

She had finished eating a late lunch when she heard a knock on the door - unusual, as anyone who knows her parents would know they are at work, and she hardly has any friends who would try to visit. Knowing that Voldemort was back, she collected her wand (She had carefully read the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery) and sneaked a look out a window, to her surprise spotting Professor Lupin, and a brown-haired woman.

_What's the Professor doing here? _Wondering over the implications of her former teacher turning up she started fretting _Has something happened to Harry? Do they know an attack is coming for my family? _She shook her head, not really sure why her Professor Lupin might be visiting her, but certain it couldn't be good.

She opened the door, and having seen her Professor Lupin perked up, "Ah! Miss Granger, good. We need to get you all packed up and off moving."

She stared blankly for a moment before replying politely, "Hello Professor," she glanced between the two, "Packed up? Has something happened?"

"Packed up and moved, Ronald did send you an invitation, didn't he?"

"He did, I refused. I didn't want to go to the Burrow this summer, I do need to spend some time with my parents." She's somewhat puzzled about why the Professor seemed to think she would jump at visiting _Ron_ of all people, the Weasley's aren't terrible people and Ron is her friend, but she spends as much time arguing with him as talking happily. The rest of the Weasley's she only has a passing acquaintance with, and she had found Molly especially overbearing and condescending.

"Oh, it's not the Burrow everyone's moved off too..." He struggled for a moment, as if unable to speak, before continuing, "Headquarters. Snuffles is there and the Weasleys are moving in, a fair old crowd going in and out too."

Hermione blinked in surprise at Snuffles being there, _Sirius? Must be, _"Harry?"

"No, Harry's still with his relatives, but as I said, the Weasley's have moved in so young Ronald is there."

"Frankly, Professor, I refused for a reason. Whether it's at the Burrow or not - and as much as meeting Snuffles again wouldn't be terrible, it's hardly motivation for running off from my parents without warning." The emphasis the Professor is placing does not go unnoticed, but Hermione waves it off as him thinking Ron's a close friend. _He is, but I just don't have that many friends..._

"We really do need to move you, for your safety, we'll get you to your boyfriend, don't fuss." The woman said while frowning.

Having realised they are under some serious misconception and feeling a little frustrated, Hermione decided that if they keep pushing she'll just close the door on them and go back to reading. "I don't have a boyfriend, let alone _Ron_ of all people. I also have plans with my parents, and they wouldn't appreciate me just runn-"

With a roll of her eye woman interrupted Hermione rudely, "Don't try to deny it, Molly's been telling everyone about how well you two get on, enviable, it is. And don't worry about your parents, we already contacted them and got permission to take you."

Hermione is alarmed by the idea Molly is pushing her to be with Ron, _What would Harry think? _She grimaced,_ Don't think about it. _The dream flashes in her mind again for a moment, and she shivered.

"No, no. Permission or not I have plans. Plans I made with my parents that I intend to keep. So if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave." Hermione stared at Professor Lupin and the rude women for a moment, then started closing the door.

Before she succeeds, her world going dark moments after, the last thing she saw being a red light coming from the woman.

**July 28th, 1995, Grimmauld Place, London, 20:40 PM**

When Hermione woke up she found herself in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, to the sound of voices she doesn't recognise. She panicked, shrieking briefly before rushing about examining the room while worrying her lip and wringing her hands.

Somewhat surprisingly, considering she had been kidnapped, she found her schools trunk along with a suitcase filled with her clothing, on top of which a rather angry looking Crookshanks was napping. Crooks' was also seemingly holding onto her wand which she quickly claimed. Scanning the room, she saw that the room isn't in the best of states, and has two doors leading out of it.

_Where in the name of Merlin am I?_ Hermione started going over the last thing she can remember - Professor Lupin showing up, saying they're going to move her to headquarters. It's blurry but she could remember a red light, then waking up before being told to memorise something, then falling unconscious again. _'Memorise this'? Wait, that's... I'm under a Fidelius Charm! What has the Professor done!_

It had been just over a minute since Hermione woke up when the door to the room bursts open, in the doorway was a grinning Sirius Black. Hermione who had reacted by pointing her wand at the threat was shaking slightly but keeping her eyes and wand arm steady.

Seeing how startled she looked, Sirius' grin faded, "Ah. Bit rude of me to barge in, I guess?" He turned away a bit sheepishly, but quickly snapped back "But you're here! Surprised you fainted on the way. Is that... normal?" He tilted his head at her, questioningly.

"No. No more normal than being kidnapped from my house by a former Professor." Having recognised Sirius as not being a threat, Hermione relaxed a bit, but her the unhappiness is still clear in her voice.

"Kidnapping? But..."

"I was kidnapped. From my house. By Professor Lupin and a woman I don't know."

"Ah, Emmeline Vance, she's a member of the order. But Kidnapping?" His voice was uncertain, "I thought you'd talked your parents into this, from the way the Weasley's were going on."

"My parents? I'd talked them into getting me over to see Harry for his birthday - since I can't seem to get a single letter to him." Anger seeped into her speech as she continued, "I guess that plan is also '_not permitted'_ just like sending him a letter asking about his schoolwork."

At this point Ron showed up in the doorway, pushes past Sirius "Hermione! You're up, brilliant!" he moved to hug her with a big grin on his face.

He stopped, abruptly when her wand ended up pointed right at his face, "Not now, Ronald. I'm not exactly happy to have been _Kidnapped_."

His grin dropped off at this and he looked confused, "But you were invited?"

"And I refused." She glared at him for a moment, "The woman with Professor Lupin _Stupify_'d me."

Crookshanks got up from his perch hisses and jumped at Ron, scratching at his leg before going to Hermione to rub wind himself between hers.

"Agh! Bloody cat! Why do you keep him around?!" hearing his complaints Hermione smiled briefly, as Ron backed off to rub his new scratches, "Why'd you refuse? I'd do anything to get away from a bunch of muggles."

Hermione's voice was ice cold as she replied, "Those _muggles_ are my Mum and Dad, _Ronald._"

Realising his mistake Ron glanced at her then looked away to stare at a wall, face turning red with embarrassment. "Ah. Er, yeah." He took a step back, "Mum'll want you down for dinner soon, she's been delaying it waiting for you to get up." Seeing she is still unhappy, and still pointing her wand at him, he made to leave, "I'll just leave you here then?"

"Bye, Ronald." Her terse reply saw him scampering from the room. She then turned back to Sirius, who is eyeing her oddly, "Where are we? I remember being told to memorise something so I'm assuming it's a Fidelius, but I was out of it and have no idea what it was they told me to remember."

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. My... old family home." He scanned around looking at the walls of the room for a few moments, "Not exactly happy memories, but it's safe, and Dumbledore promised he'd get Harry here sometime this summer if I opened it up to the Order."

He turned back to her "Now, since you didn't jump into his arms, I'm guessing his proclamations of you being his girlfriend might have been a little... early?" His face was, truthfully, quite serious.

"Early by an eternity, maybe." Sirius barks a short laugh at Hermione's statement, and smiling at his laughter she lowered her wand again.

"I had thought you and Harry got on too well for you to be with him!" He was openly grinning again, and it only grew wider as Hermione blushes, "I'm sorry about the, ah, Kidnapping. I was in no way involved - then don't even let me leave the house."

"Godfather like Godson? Both locked up in a house you don't like?" Hermione tried to push a little humour into the air, but it falls flat as Sirius lost his grin again and devolves into a frown. "Sorry." She said, regretfully.

He shook his head at her apology, "No, no. It was funny, a little. Just a bit of a sore spot."

_Bad subject, switch, switch, _"Do you know anything about what's being done for my parents?"

"Your parents? Ah, if anything is being done I haven't been told, and it hasn't been mentioned. Why?"

"If they've brought me here they must think I'm in danger, or something, so that means my house is in danger and thus my parents are. Without me there they don't have any way to defend against magic at all, and they'd given up their holiday this year, so we could spend time at home and I could meet Harry." She frowned as she mentioned her meeting with Harry again, "Merlin! I just wanted to give him a birthday for once, and I end up kidnapped!"

Sirius was definitely taken aback by her words, "You're right, your parents would be a target. I'll bring it up at the next meeting at the least and speak to Mad-Eye the next time he's here if that's sooner." He shrugged "Not much more I can do, Dumbledore only shows up for the meetings."

Hermione was distinctly unhappy that nothing had been done but knows better than to take it out on Sirius. He had nothing to do with it.

A horrible shrieking started echoing into the room from the halls, followed by Molly's own screaming - though the words were unintelligible.

"Wonderful, dear ol' mum's awake again." Seeing Hermione's puzzled expression, he elaborated "My mother's portrait, right old harridan. Make any noise near her and she wakes up to scream bloody murder."

As Hermione nodded in response Sirius stepped into the room and closed the door, cutting off the noise. "Now, Molly wants you rooming with Ginny - but I put you in here since you were unconscious, it's up to you if want this room or a roommate."

"This room will do, is the second door a bathroom?"

"Yep! Third floor all has en suites, and I remember you're quite the bookworm? Last door is the library. The bathroom will need cleaning - don't fuss about magic, can't be detected, just don't let Molly see you." Sirius' tone is back to being fairly Jovial "I'll key the room to you, only you, me and... Right, you and me. You're not happy with Moony, are you? Anyway, only you and I will be able to open the door." He paused and started wiggling an eyebrow, "I can change that when Harry gets here, if you like?"

Hermione blushed again at his implication, "No, that's fine." _Library, Granger, he mentioned a Library, _"How big's the library?"

"Fairly big. I'll open it to you on the condition you don't take books from the shelves - there's dark magic in there, and not all the books are safe. I'll pick out ones I know a safe for you if you talk me through your adventures with Harry?"

Hermione could tell it's a bribe so that he could hear about his godson, but truthfully, she would be happy to talk about him. Getting books out of the deal, well that only made it better.

"That's a deal," she said, "And you can tell them I don't feel like eating, being _Kidnapped _has honestly made me feel a little nauseous."

_Kidnapped. There's no way they'll let me leave,_ her thoughts flipped between what happened to her parents to 'permit' this, and her lost meeting with Harry. "I'll unpack a few things and turn in, I didn't sleep well last night and the stunning spell doesn't seem to have been particularly restful."

Sirius blinked at her for a moment, "Alright, sleepy-head, I'll let you take your beauty sleep." He smirked over his shoulder at her as he started leaving, "You'll need it for when Harry shows up, right?"

"Sirius!" She was getting frustrated with his insinuations, _Would Harry notice?_ _Really, would harry notice if we... _The dream of the bottle breaking on Harry's body popped into her mind again as Sirius was stepping out the door, chuckling.

"Sirius, one more thing? Could you get me a book or two on countering mind-effect potions, magical contracts and the like?" She turned to the side, so he couldn't see her face as she thought up a suitable lie for why she's interested, "After the fiasco with the goblet, I started reading about contracts, how they can affect people, and that lead onto potions. Honestly, I've been having... nightmares about someone using them on me." _True, I think. But... who would? And why would it hurt Harry like that...?_

He nodded, still smirking "Sure, wouldn't want someone stealing you from your boys. Harry did say you turned heads at that Ball, even his." Before she can properly process the last few words the door is closed, and Sirius is gone.

She settled in to unpack, and about half an hour later Sirius had brought back four books - _Guide to Advanced Occlumency by Maxwell Barnett, Dagworth Guide to Detecting and Cleansing Potions by Hector Dagworth-Granger,_ _Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage's, _and _Assuring a Pureblood Bride's Purity by Lyra Black_

Of the four books Hermione was most interested in the Dagworth Guide, but when she questioned the usefulness of the _Pureblood _book Sirius mentioned it had nasty curses that could trigger automatically on anyone who tried to take someone's '_purity', _so she decided to keep it.

Feeling too tired to read, she soon fell into bed and dropped off to sleep.


	6. Bonds and Curses

**Summary: **Hermione vanished after the end of fifth year, only for disturbing reports to surface of her living with the Malfoys and befriending Bellatrix Black. Now she is on the rolls to return to Hogwarts for her N.E.W.T year, Harry's seventh year.

**Author's Note: **I write to clear anxiety from my system, and this was prompted by a story which has fairly obvious similarities. I just... took offence to magical objects changing a major character's priorities and twisting them until they were almost unrecognisable.

I'm not going to name names or say more, but I found it creepy and anxiety inducing.

**Warnings**: Ron being Ron, Luna being Luna, Mental Manipulation, Implied Lack of Consent, Mentions of Attempted Rape, Generally Dark Themes.

**Characters: **Ronald, Luna, Harry, Hermione

* * *

She was back. It had been more than a year since he had last seen her, last heard her voice, but she was back. He was afraid to see her, Ron wasn't happy that he was even going to. Saying that she was bad news and that he had always known it - he hadn't, the prick, he spent half of fifth year trying to her to date him.

But standing outside the compartment where she was sat alone, and he was apprehensive. They had ambushed her former sitting companions, Malfoy, Goyle, Crabb and Parkinson - they had made the annual 'Insult Harry' trip to his compartment ten minutes ago. They were all unconscious and tied up in said compartment now, giving him the freedom to talk to Hermione.

And ask her why.

Why she had vanished from her home, why she had been seen with Bellatrix Lestrange of all people, at Malfoy Manor of all places. Why the only news they had of her came from reports Snape brought back, telling of her growing - and disturbing - relationship with the older witch. Why she had _bowed_ before Voldemort with a smile on her face.

He felt sick to his stomach and wanted desperately to run away. He had loved her, he didn't know what it was until she got hurt in the department of mysteries, but he had loved her deeply. The possibility of her betraying him still didn't fit right in his mind, that she could possibly betray his secrets and aid his parent's murderer.

But the members of the order that she had known about had been targeted mercilessly - Remus was dead, Tonks had nearly been ripped apart, Diggle had been found with his own entrails hung around his neck.

All members she had met and spoken to. There had been other attacks, ones which showed some knowledge of the order - the Weasleys had been attacked too, and Death Eaters had been found patrolling around Little Whinging. They couldn't get within a mile of the house on Privet Drive because of the wards, but if Harry or the Dursleys had strayed too far it would have been over.

This last summer he had only been there for two days before both he, and the Dursleys, had been forcefully evacuated to Grimmauld Place, the wards shifted to function in Sirius' old manor house. It had taken Dumbledore a month of work, but he had managed it, and while Vernon and Dudley had been allowed to leave Petunia had been forced to remain.

She had been especially unpleasant because of that.

Luna, his girlfriend for the last seven months put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly, and nudged him forward. With a deep breath he opened the door to the compartment.

"Hmm? Back from harassing Potter already Draco?" She said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Hermione." Her head snapped up as he said her name, looking him in the eye curiously. The assessing nature of her gaze only further unsettled his stomach, none of the affection for him he had once seen in them remained. Whatever she thought of him, it wasn't love, maybe not even friendship.

"Harry," she said, "I am surprised. I would have thought Dumbledore would have forbidden you from contacting me."

"He did." Harry could barely keep his voice even, wishing his Hermione would appear, that she would leap out and crush him in a hug like she always had before. But it was not to be.

"You always were a rule breaker." She sneered, a slimy smug sneer worthy of Malfoy, "So, why are you here? Ronald doesn't seem to be happy - and is that Luna? I suppose you needed someone to help keep your grades up." Her voice dripped with condescension, cutting into his heart like a curse.

"Why, Hermione?"

"Why what, Harry?"

"Why what?!" His voice grew louder, "Why are you- You're living with the Malfoys, with Bellatrix - she killed Sirius! She murdered my godfather!" It was all he could do to not scream in her face and he felt a whisper of Luna's magic behind him in response, casting _Muffliato _to prevent his voice drawing attention from nearby compartments.

"She's my soul mate Harry," Luna's grip on his shoulder tightens painfully, "I _love_ her. I was made for her, and if you knew what I do... you would join us both."

He stared at her stunned, _'soul mate? Bellatrix? No... No.'_ Luna's grip on his shoulder, the feel of magic in the air, the way Hermione was inherently _wrong_, resonated. He tore himself away from her eyes to look her over, seeing a ring on her slender finger, her left ring finger.

As he stared she spoke up again, "You like my ring? It's her mark on me, and with it one day we will be wedded by our Lord." It was wrong, both the words she said and the ring. Ever since the summer after Sirius died he had become sensitive to magic, since his scar had split open and spilt out black pus. And that ring reeked of black magic, it tasted to his senses like an unforgivable.

"When... when did she give it to you?" He forced himself to ask.

"Soon after we met, it was a gift." She looked at the ring, a true to Hermione smile on her face - for a ring gifted by a torturing murderer. The woman who had cost Neville his parents.

"Harry, let's go. She's... she's mad mate." Ron said from behind him.

"I am _not _mad, Ronald." She snapped viciously, "I am in complete control of myself and my senses. You could have Madam Pomfrey examine me day and night for a week and find _nothing_ wrong." She said defensively, getting up and moving towards them menacingly, "Get out, I don't want to see you, any of you. Not with how you're acting. If you want us to be friends again you'll have to-" Hermione reached out to push Harry out of the compartment, but he grabbed her hand, and she stopped, stunned.

"Ha-Harry?" she whispered in a hurt voice, the change in her demeanour was sudden and complete, no longer a powerful and angry witch but a cowed and scared teenage girl. "Harry..." He recoiled back but she held onto his hand and was pulled back with it, staggering into him and suddenly clutching his shirt.

"Luna! Geroff! Give me my wand ba-" Ron's rant is cut off by the whisper of a petrifying charm behind him, Luna's magic vibrating with either anxiety or anticipation. Or maybe she needed to pee - he had made that mistake before.

"Hermione, what-"

"Harry, no. Listen. If you- If you ever loved me, cared for me, you- remember. Remember me, not this-" She hissed in pain, limply pulled her hand free while leaning into him and clawed at the ring on her finger, tugging at it. It didn't come off.

"Please... soul bonds... they- Luna, I- I don't." She shuddered, reached out and pushed Harry away.

"I don't know _what_ you did to me, _Potter._ But _get out._ I will talk to you when you have an apology prepared." Her eyes burned with anger as she looked at him, "Whatever good will towards you I had is gone. You will _never_ try to control me-"

"Harry, kiss her. Now." Luna commanded behind him, and as he had grown used to obeying her in _that _voice, he did so. Not thinking that the girl she had told him to kiss wasn't herself, but Hermione. He surged forward, his arms holding hers as his lips made a seal over her own. Her protest and struggle he could feel, but he was remembering.

Her agonising, heart ripping squeak as she fell to the curse in the department of mysteries, where he had so foolishly charged ahead and lost his godfather. The day she had kissed him on the cheek at King's Cross, growing those feelings he had understood when she collapsed and nearly died. The feeling of her arms around him and her body pressing into his back as they flew atop Buckbeak, working together to save a life. The joy he had felt when she was released from her petrification and had hugged him so dearly in front of all. That day in the corridor, before he faced Voldemort for the first time, when he had received the first hug he could remember and she had called him a great wizard.

He loved her and was crying because he had just done something she would never forgive. She wanted _Bella_, not _Harry,_ and that thought burned in his heart.

He let go and stepped back, tears falling down his face as he looked at her. He felt a hand on his shoulder - angry and, strangely, jealous - yanking him backwards and away from Hermione. He didn't let Ron, because it couldn't have been Luna, twist him around - he couldn't look away from Hermione, not until he saw the hate and disgust in her eyes for himself.

But she didn't, she quivered, shuddered, took a gasping breath and ripped off the ring from her finger turned and threw it to the floor. She had taken a measure of skin and blood too, from the streaks of red where it had landed. She snapped her wand into her hand from a wrist holster and spat out a _vile_ sounding curse, fire green and red and blue and furious burst forth - the shapes of beasts, wolves, dragons, but most prominently otters, dancing in it. The ring burnt but Harry could feel the emotion in the flame.

It was destruction incarnate, an all-consuming flame, and it was _hungry._ Hermione slashed her wand and all but the otters snuffed out - much of the compartment was scorched as they danced around it, but they too burnt to nothing at a wave of Hermione's wand. He didn't know what to think, her magic felt distorted, like it was both light and dark, but most of all it sang with a soul-deep regret, a song that was purely, truly, Hermione.

She turned back, wobbling slightly, and said "Harry... I'm sorry. I, I trust you." She collapsed, and he barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor, breaking free of Ron's grasp as he did so.

He held her close he could feel her magic more intensely than he had ever felt anyone else's, even at the start when it had felt like staring at the sun. But this wasn't distracting, wasn't painful the way it had been before he adapted. It wasn't pleasant, Hermione's magic was tearing at itself, flecks of darkness and poison fighting against the bright whole that was singing the regret-filled song of magic.

"What... What happened to you, Hermione?" He asked emptily, not expecting any answer.

"Harry! Get away from her, she's dark! We need to hand her over to Dumbledore!" Ron had broken Luna's silencing charm, he realised. He couldn't have brought himself to care that Ron was even talking if he hadn't heard Ron's accusation.

"She is _not_ dark!"

"She cast _Fiendfyre! _She's as dark as that bitch Bellatrix! She's gone, give it up and let Dumbledore deal with her." Harry, still staring at Hermione, twisted his perception to focus on Ron - as much as he _desperately_ wanted to continue watching Hermione with everything he had, he needed to. He found Ron seething with emotion, not concern, not anything of that sort. Not even sorrow, grief, or any form of sadness.

He was greedy, desiring, wanting, envious and jealous. Of Harry. Of Hermione. There was an undercurrent of something else Harry couldn't discern, but what he felt was enough.

"No, Ron. They... someone did something to Hermione. She needs help, not to be... Dumbledore would obliviate her of everything. He already told us that. He will _never_ touch her."

"If you won't listen, I'll go do it myself. Your obsession is dangerous Harry!" Ron went to storm off, leaving Harry to continue cradling Hermione.

"_Obliviate." _He whipped around at the whispered word and saw Luna with her wand pointed at Ronald. "You went with Harry to talk to Hermione, you complained about her being missing for so long, she said it wasn't any of your business. You insulted her, she insulted you back, Harry got between your fight and you accused him of taking her side. When he didn't respond you stunned her, he caught her and told you to leave. You decided to storm off in anger, mad that you are no longer Harry's only close friend." Luna's voice retained the dreamy quality she always had throughout, a sort of ethereal command forcing Ron to change his perception of the world.

Ron stood drooling for a few seconds before snapping out of it, spitting at Harry he turned and left, grumbling about fame-loving witches as he stomped away.

"Luna?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I'm sorry. I..."

"Oh, Harry. I know. I only dated you because if I didn't Ginny would have started potioning you so you would notice her, she was quite determined." As his face turned into a rictus of horror, "Oh, nothing major. Just an attraction draught, but once she had you she wouldn't let you go for Hermione." She smiled softly, "I always knew I would, after all, I knew she had a soul mate. And last year I saw you had one too. Your scar was covering it up, its why nothing ever happened, but then something did and your scar went all pop and white and the wrackspurts fell out."

Her smile faded, "I think someone filled Hermione with so many wrackspurts she became a nest and forgot who she loved and lived for, or maybe the ring was the nest? But you fixed it." She looked down at Hermione intently, "Or, rather, _she_ fixed it. I'll have to ask if she found a Moon Frog, they're supposed to have very good advice about souls and bonds and other things, maybe even where a crumple horned snorkack might be."

"Luna," Harry said, in the voice that he used to tell she was drifting. She did that a lot, his girl- ...ex-girlfriend. "You're... breaking up with me?"

She blinked, "No!" She looked him in the eye and smiled her dreamy smile, "Well, yes. You're with Hermione, I mean, of course you are? If you don't mind I'd like you to be the father of my children - the other options are horrible, Ron's not very nice and Draco is meaner. Ernie isn't terrible but Susan's happy and I like her, Terry tried to rape-"

"What?!"

"-me so I don't like him much. The other boys aren't very important and most of them are probably going to die or run away or don't like me at all so, Harry will you father my children?" She asked, still smiling and acting as if what she had said was the most normal thing in the world.

"Terry did _what?!_" He demanded, deciding that while Luna asking him to father children with her was important, someone trying to _rape _her was a little more important.

"Rape, Harry. He didn't succeed." She said, still smiling and perfectly calm, "He never tried again. Or with anyone else. Or will with anyone else. Or can, with anyone else or himself. I didn't, and don't like him much." She looked at Hermione, "You'll have your hands full getting revenge for Hermione, even with my help. Daddy ran out of Shoggoths years ago, so we can't just drop one on them in revenge for what they did. Which is a shame, they made the best revenge; perfectly cold."

"Luna. Please." Harry was having trouble following what she was saying, "I..." He wanted to ask more about what had happened to her, but surrendered on the topic as he saw her ready to start another babble again, to keep him off guard and distracted. "Do you know what's wrong with Hermione?"

"Intent is magic, magic is intent." She sing-songed, "She didn't intend to be dark, so magic is fighting it. We should go - Malfoy and his friendliest of friends will be awake now and we don't want them to find Hermione all nargled like that."

Harry scrabbled to his feet and Luna helped him pick Hermione up into a bridal carry, wrapping her arm around his neck and sticking it there with a charm.

"Alright, let's go. And Luna..." He was hesitant, but he needed to ask.

"Yes, Harry?" He could feel her behind him as he started walking, a bubbling well of eagerness and good feelings

"You'll help me find who did this, won't you?" He asked.

Eyes wide she stared at him as she spoke, "Why did you even ask? She's my friend too." Her tone was insulted.

"Sorry," he bowed his head apologetically.

"We already have one name. We'll start a list. Hermione'd like that."

He just nodded, walking down the corridor until they found an empty compartment they could seal themselves into. As he held Hermione closely Luna set about unshrinking their trunks and casting privacy charms and wards, but he didn't pay attention to that. All he could think about was finding whoever had done this to Hermione, whoever had stolen her for a year and made her wear that ring, and cursing them into an early grave.

Damn the Greater Good, some things could never be forgiven.

* * *

**Author's Note:** If any of you think I'm brushing Luna's mention of rape off lightly, I'm sorry. She is... casual about the abuse she suffers. Further she already 'got back' at him and considers it done and closed, so she made him drop it. He'd have argued more, but he's still distracted by the whole Hermione thing. If I continue this there is no doubt that it will be brought back up and have more of a response.


	7. Black Tidings

**Summary:** Harry asked Hermione to visit Gringotts with him and take an inheritance test. His excitement had been infectious, but things don't go the way any of them were expecting.

**Author's Note:** Been a little while since the last plot bunny, but this one's been kicking around for a while. The start's fairly set, but my attempts to expand it have faltered repeatedly. A shame, really, as despite the initial angst I wanted to turn this into a fluffy summer friendship story.

**Warnings:** Angst, Mr Granger Bashing, Dubious Consent, Memory Loss.

**Characters:** Hermione, Harry, Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, Random Goblin No. 3

* * *

**3rd of August, 1993, Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London**

How could this have happened? Hermione's thoughts were whirling, tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to reach out to her father–her father who was storming out of Gringotts with his face pulled into an ugly grimace. He was leaving. He was abandoning her. Adam Jordan Granger was abandoning his wife and daughter after he learned the truth.

Hermione couldn't even blame Harry. He was stood next to her, the eager smile he had on his face when he had dragged her into the bank to take the test long since banished. He would likely blame himself, wish that he had never suggested it and let secrets remain secret so that Hermione's life hadn't been disrupted. She didn't think it would have mattered. It hurt to have it happen, it especially hurt to have it happen in public and so suddenly, but the separation was years in the making.

Her parents hadn't gotten along well for years. For as long as she could remember. They were business partners, fellow practitioners, but they had married because Hermione had happened. Her dad–the man who had raised her–had even had a vasectomy afterword to prevent more 'accidents'. Learning that her father thought of her as an accident had been one of the reasons she had been so eager to go to Hogwarts. It had been the worst thing he had ever said to her, and utterly ruined her eleventh birthday. There was a reason she had never brought up when she was born to her friends: she didn't want to remember.

But now she knew she wasn't an accident. She wasn't even her father's daughter. She was the product of the most vile thing she could imagine magic could be used for; a wizard had had sex with Mum gotten her pregnant, and made her forget the encounter even happened. They didn't even know if she had been raped or if it had been consensual.

She was the daughter of Regulus Arcturus Black, and thusly the half-blood heiress of the House of Black. It explained why she didn't have any of her father's–the man who raised her–features. Why she was so very nearly a clone of her mother, but with magic added to the mix.

Perhaps the only good thing they had learned was that she was Harry's second cousin once removed. Her great-great-grandfather being his great-grandfather. Except, that same family through which they were related was the one from which Sirius Black–her uncle–the escaped prisoner came from. Some of the most ardent supporters of blood supremacy and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were her close relatives.

"Daddy…" Hermione's throat choked up and stopped her finishing what she wanted to say, but when her dad turned to glance at her for a scant moment before continuing to storm off she didn't know what she would have said anyway. Or if anything she could have said would have made it better. He had never been loving; only dutiful, and now he saw that duty as misplaced. "He–he's gone…" She was sobbing and crying, hands clutched to her chest. Maybe he would come back, or maybe he would just be gone and never she would never see him again.

Maybe the last words Hermione would ever hear her father say would be 'So, she wasn't even mine.'

Hermione was far too scared to look at Mum; to see the silent accusation on her face a second time, as if it were Hermione's fault this had happened. There was a cough behind her, and despite Hermione's despair she was still cognisant of her surroundings, so she turned to look with tear filled eyes.

"Mrs Granger, Miss Granger, Mr Potter. If your business is concluded I would ask you to vacate the room so it–" The goblin who had administered the inheritance test, one which involved bleeding freely into a bowl in a most unsanitary manner, said. Hermione didn't know the goblin's name. Every attempt she had made to get an introduction from one of the surly beings had been met with a glare and a grunt.

"Um, Sir!" Harry said, eliciting Hermione to take a glance at him. He was looking back and forth between herself, Mum, and the goblin. His eyes were wide and hands wrung together in front of him. "How much to keep this room for… an hour?"

The goblin turned his attention to Harry with a fierce glare that on a human would certainly mean anger, but on a goblin it seemed so common, so default that it couldn't be solely that.

"Ten galleons."

"Right, oh." Harry rummaged in his trouser pockets and pulled out more than a dozen of the golden coins. "Here–"

"Harry," Hermione managed to push out between sobs, "lets just–just go to the cauldron…" She grabbed his hand and guided it back to his pocket, where she had to pry his fingers open to get him to let go of the coins. The task, silly as it was, helped. It distracted her. "You have a room–lets just go there?" She asked, now realising that she didn't want to–couldn't–let go of his hand. It was a lifeline and she was clinging to it for all it was worth.

Harry met her gaze then looked past her, at her mum. After a moment of silence he nodded. "Okay, thank you, um, Record Keeper?"

"Junior Record Keeper." There was an awkward moment of silence before the goblin spoke again. "You may depart. Your business is concluded."

Hermione didn't pay much attention to the walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, but what did burn itself into her mind is how despite her crying, her sobs and shaky walk, her mother didn't offer any comfort. Not a hand on her shoulder, an arm wrapped around her in a hug, and not even a kind word. It was just Harry who kept holding her hand and caught her when she stumbled.

In the cauldron her mother told Harry to take her up to his room and wait for her while she checked on something. She was headed towards the Cauldron's front as Harry pulled Hermione up the stairs to his room; worrying all the way about the fact mum wouldn't be able to see the building once she left. That she was going to disappear too, and all she would have left was Harry.

He was her best friend, her first friend. The boy she even had a little crush on–which was now weird because he was her cousin–but he wasn't her Mum or her Dad. He couldn't replace them.

He sat her down on the bed and sat down next to her. When she wrapped her arms around him, clinging on for dear life, and sobbing loudly into his shoulder he just made a small startled sound before tentatively wrapping his own around her body.

"Hermione, I–I'm sorry. I didn't… I never thought it could have gone like that. I just wanted you to, there was…" He pulled her in tighter, hugging her protectively. "It's my fault–I shouldn't have–"

"Harry." The door to the room slammed open and Mum's voice rang out. "It is not your fault. It is the fault of a wizard, yes, but not yours. Even… even Adam agreed it was a good idea to take the test. None of us thought of this." She was angry, Hermione could tell. She wasn't being loud, but the way Mum was just holding her face completely still–all hard lines with her jaw firmly set. She was livid in a way Hermione hadn't seen since for years. Not since her magic had gotten away from her and broke the family piano when she was seven.

She could feel Harry nodding his head slowly; likely only acquiescing to avoid a fight and not upset Hermione more. Like he did when she became too much for him with her rambling or insistence on studying. Just paying lip-service to agreement, and ignoring anything he didn't want or didn't feel he needed to deal with.

"You wanted to help my… my daughter. You wanted to show her a bit of heritage that she didn't know about. We just learned far more than we ever wanted to, and that is not your fault." Mum sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Adam has left and taken the car, so we'll have to take the Tube home. Hopefully he will either have calmed down by the time we get there, or have found somewhere else to stay for the night."

Hermione closed her eyes tight. She did like the idea of moving–of leaving Harry's comforting arms. She would have to, but she didn't want to. She wanted to be held, to be distracted. Maybe have a book to read while he sat next to her with an arm around her.

But they couldn't stay with Harry at the Leaky Cauldron, nor could they wait too long to head home. It was already late and it would only get later. "When," She croaked, "do we leave?"

"The sooner the better I think." Mum looked at Harry, her face still carefully held blank. "Harry, I believe it would best for Hermione if you came with us. She needs a friend right now. She is still my daughter, but this is…" Her mask slipped and a vicious scowl covered her face. "Difficult."

"Ah." Harry said as he flinched back a little. "I–I'm not supposed to leave the alley…"

"You have that cloak, don't you? The invisible one? We can fit everything into your fancy shrinking trunk and you just follow us invisible. Once we're away from any wizards," She physically spat saying the word, one hand clutching her stomach. "We can find a loo for you to drop the cloak in. Or maybe you care more about obeying whoever told you to stay here, in this dingy little room, than my Hermione?"

"Mum!" Hermione protested, but was drowned out by Harry's own protest.

"No! Of course I care about Hermione!" Harry's hug got even tighter, a little painfully so. "I… fine. Help me pack so we can go." He gently released her from his embrace and got up and let Hedwig out of her cage. "We'll be going to Hermione's. Wait for us there, okay?" He stroked Hedwig's beak, receiving an affection nip in return. With an acknowledging bark Hedwig quickly flew off out the window.

"Harry…" Hermione forced herself to speak even though her throat was still swollen and painful. "If it's safer here–you should stay."

"Safer? Safer from what? Hundreds of wizards walk through downstairs each day, all of them wearing hoods or hats. Can't see half of their faces, certainly can't recognise them. If someone wanted to hurt me all they'd need to do is come covered up–or even polyjuice! Everyone knows I'm here!" He huffed as he gathered a few clothes that had been scattered on the floor and threw them into his trunk forcefully.

"Stupid minister put Hagrid in Azkaban last year on Malfoy's orders. We know he supported Voldemort! So his followers definitely know I'm here, and probably how I'm being 'protected' too."

Hermione felt like she should argue, tell him to stay safe, but she wasn't up to it. She was tired, hungry, her throat hurt, her eyes were sore, and her she just wanted to have someone, her dad, her mum, Harry–someone, anyone–to hold her tell her everything was fine. It wasn't, but she wanted to pretend anyway.

"… Okay." She murmured as she picked at her clothes. Her sobbing had stopped but she could still feel tears flowing. A quick glance at her mum showed no comfort coming from that quarter; Mum was collecting Harry's books and scattered possessions and moving them next to the trunk for him to pack inside. Or throw inside, since he didn't seem to care for packing at the moment.

Wanting to do something, anything, she gets up and reaches in to start organising his books. She noticed him glance at her questioningly, but he didn't stop her doing the busywork. Soon everything was stored inside, including her own purchases for the day. They shrank the trunk using the runes inscribed on the front, Harry donned his cloak, and they all made their way out of the Cauldron onto the still busy evening streets of London proper.

* * *

End Note**:** My plans for this included drama over Sirius in third year, Malfoy finding out about her heritage and trying to court her, Ron exploding that she's an evil daughter of a Death Eater, Ginny coming down on Hermione (mostly Harry's) side. And finally, Harry and Hermione dealing with the awkwardness of their growing closeness and possible romance while being somewhat distant cousins.

I just have to start somehow. Maybe I'll find the time to force my way past the difficult writing once I finish Double Time.

Technically, by the way, it wouldn't be incest. Second cousins once removed is the first non-consanguineous step for cousins, and the genetic relevance is barely more than that between the general populace. It is, however, still a little weird.


	8. Graveyard

**Summary: **Everyone who he had ever loved was dead. All that he had left was the graveyard he had built. Madness came easy, and the delusions only grew ever more real.

**Author's Note: **I felt angsty and annoyed at something. This is the result. Honestly, I'm not too sure _what_ it is, but it exists.

**Warnings**: Angst. Everyone is dead.

**Characters: **I named no-one. Not that it's secret or anything. I just didn't name anyone.

* * *

It was not the first time he had come here. No, not the first time at all. Nor was it the second, or third, nor any number so small. Hundreds of times, maybe thousands–though, perhaps not. It had become daily routine, an obsession. As dawn broke, when those tiresome smiling faces permitted him to leave and disappear for lunch, and again as dusk fell. But even that never felt like enough.

"**_YOU ALWAYS RETURN. YET EVEN SO. ONLY SILENCE REIGNS HERE._"**

She wasn't even the first one to have done it. She was the second, but all the more personal. It was hard not to respect a mother who would die for her child, her baby, but it was hard to love someone whose face he couldn't remember. She–the second–was so much more personal. She hadn't been there since the first day; the giant had been the one to introduce him to this world. All its wonders, all its horrors, all its–all of the _sacrifices_ who had died for him.

But she had been there for years. Seven long years. Ever since the train, ever since that Halloween, ever since he had demonstrated his stupidity married with bravery she had stood by him. And then, at the end, when he was told he had to die to see the war done, she had denied it and found another way. She had known for years, hidden it as she researched, until she found it.

"**_BRILLIANCE MARRIED WITH DESPERATION. FOREVER A SORROWFUL STORY._**"

Another woman who died for him, sacrificed herself to keep him alive. It didn't seem to matter. Everyone he cared for died. His parents died before his second birthday, his best friend died the day the war was won to kill the snake, his adoptive-sister died keeping the enemy distracted so he could land the final blow, and she–she died screaming, her death the worst of all. She had asked him to kill her as soon as she had finished the spell, but he couldn't do it.

How he regretted not following that order. How he regretted not listening to her.

"**_REGRET ALL YOU WISH. NOTHING SHALL CHANGE UNTIL YOU ACT._**"

Hesitation cost her not only her life, but her soul. She had torn the Horcrux from his head and taken it into herself, but without his mother's protection she was overwhelmed so quickly. Corrupted. _Him_ wearing her face.

He had tried to call her, tried to apologise, but even though he could call those dead a thousand years or more she wouldn't answer. Everyone he asked had said the same thing 'She never arrived. But _he_ did, twice.' He had damned her by being her friend, and he had damned her a dozen times more by never listening.

"**_SO. BOY. HAVE YOU CONSIDERED MY OFFER?_**"

He didn't know how long it had been since he had given up completely. Since he had _stopped_ counting time and wasted away the days hunting down the last remnants of his enemies. He never failed to visit, but also never failed to take care of his health. She would have hated him if he wasted away. Many he met wore smiles, cheering for their hero, but he never spoke to them. Only to the graves. Sometimes they _tried_ to follow; he had long gotten past his merciful tendencies. Those who knew better avoided him, didn't meet his gaze, and stayed out of his way. He almost liked those people, but couldn't be that cruel. If he grew attached they would die too.

His nightmares had gotten worse over the days–weeks–months–years but he didn't care. He slept, nothing else mattered. There was no reason to wake from a nightmare when the waking world was no kinder. Sometimes, he wasn't sure what was real and what was the dream. He acted the same regardless, so it seemed pointless to quibble.

**_"_** **_YOU HELD SO MUCH OF MY POWER IN YOUR HANDS. BUT IN THE END IT WASN'T ENOUGH. WAS IT?_**"

The grave was ostentatious. She–they–would have hated it, most likely. But that didn't stop him working. It had begun as a simple obelisk, hidden in the place he kept most secret. Black stone and white names had seemed enough at first, but now it seemed such a feeble monument compared to the rest. They each had a statue, though not one depicted their faces. None of them were that vain–save one, but he ran, the coward. His name was there, if only because no one knew if he had lived or died.

Years of friendship made up for his cowardice, maybe.

Books, fireworks, plants, animals, dragons, trees, a castle, epitaphs with the most memorable things each and every one had said. Gold, silver, gems, weapons–artifacts. He never carried the stone anymore, and no one ever would. It, along with the wand and cloak, were part of the graves now. Only he knew where the stone was wrapped in the cloak held up by the wand in the space between the arch of her grave.

It whispered, at times, like the _other_ arch had. Truthfully, he found it comforting. He knew the voices that whispered, and he knew what they were asking. It was no temptation; she had told him to live, after all.

"**_NOUGHT BUT A SPARK OBSCURED BY SHADOW. BUT A SPARK IS A SPARK. ERE IT DIES I ASK AGAIN. HAVE YOU CONSIDERED MY OFFER. BOY?_**"

The black voice was maddening. He knew no one else could hear it; it had echoed in halls filled with hundreds and not a single one reacted. He tried to ignore it, tried so hard. But it was always there.

He laid down on the grass before the veil, directly above where her body lay. All around him stood small stone towers, each one engraved with a time he had failed her. A time she had saved him from himself. It was an obsession, he knew. The last person he had spoken to had explained as much. Then she died too, and he couldn't even take revenge. He couldn't fight old age.

"**_THERE IS A PLACE YOUR ROLES WERE REVERSED. SHE THE HERO. YOU THE COMPANION. OR IT COULD BE. IT HAS NOT YET BEEN._**"

There wasn't anything more he could do to absolve his own guilt. He had already campaigned for her causes to their completion, completed his studies to their fullest, removed every last one who had aided their enemy so they could harm not one more person. It still wasn't enough. She would never tell him he had done well again, that she was proud.

He was the boy-who-lived. He would keep on living. Death held no hidden secrets, no paradise, no end to his guilt. She wasn't there waiting for him.

"**_IT WOULD BE EFFORTLESS TO CONNECT THE TWO TOGETHER. THE DARKNESS OF THAT OTHER PLACE TO THE DARKNESS THAT CLAIMED HER HERE."_**

For the first time he could see the source of the voice. It was stood in the archway, holding a black ball in which pulsated the tiniest little light. What the figure looked like–he couldn't say. It was black, it was white, it was gaunt, it was skeletal, it was beautiful, it was ordinary. The only constant, the only truth, that could be seen of it was the tattered cloak; from which a large portion had been torn away.

"**_TIME RUNS OUT. THERE SHE WOULD BE PROTECTED. WITHOUT YOU SHE IS DESTINED TO FAIL. HAVE YOU CONSIDERED MY OFFER. BOY?_**"

"Yes."

The word slips out, unwanted, unneeded. It was an admission that he has been courting his delusions for this last however long. Ever since he finished the grave of the cat, the final piece of his heart that had died. The last friend he had held in his arms. Moons and moons had passed since then. He didn't know how many.

"I have considered it."

"**_I ASK THEN. WHAT IS YOUR ANSWER?"_**

"I accept."

It was a decision that moved mountains, changed everything, and still his heart didn't stir from its passionless beat. The words felt like an admission of failure. There was nothing left for him, and despite all the dreams of his youth, he couldn't keep his promises. He failed even that, in the end.

"**_DO NOT FORGET. EIGHT I AM OWED. YOU ARE MASTER NO MORE. YOUR BOND IS ETERNAL. YOU ARE YOURSELF. NOTHING ELSE IS OF SUBSTANCE."_**

The world went black.

And then he woke up to the sound of a familiar whistle.


	9. Station

**Summary: **Graveyard's direct sequel.

**Author's Note: **I got an itch and wrote the lot at once. I wanted a little fluff, I guess. That's pretty unusual for me.

Written without beta, real proofreading, or proper editing.

**Warnings**: Fluff. Angst. Fluff. Dubious Ritualistic Magical Consent.

**Characters: **Harry, Hermione, Lily, Daphne

* * *

It was her. She was there. He couldn't believe it–the sound. The whistle. The voices–his mother talking to him from behind him.

His mother asking him if he's okay because he suddenly stopped moving. The train, bright and red as it had ever been, the world so tall around him–every last person a giant as if he were looking up at Hagrid. It was disorientating. His mother cupping his head and looking at his face and asking if he was alright. She was there, waifish and subdued wearing a dress that doesn't suit her at all. Her hair was up it a terrible bun that was failing to properly restrain her curls. In fact, straight lengths of hair forced into the bun were bursting out and curling as he watched.

His mother examining him carefully with those eyes that are a mirror of his own–the green eyes he–he–he bursts out crying. They were alive. They were there. He loved them. He remembered his childhood with his mother, the muggleborn witch who married the muggle boy she met at university. She had taken part in the war, but not as a soldier, just as a researcher and protector. Harry–he was Harry James Potter. His father was James Edmund Potter, a muggle with no connection to the Potter family that had died out with the death of Charlus Potter.

She was walking closer and his heart was beating like it hadn't beat in so long.

It was too much. He was aware of both lives. He was the boy in the cupboard under the stairs. The heir of Slytherin. The Tri-Wizard Champion. The Man-Who-Conquered.

He was the beloved child of James and Lily Potter. He was the elder brother of three younger sisters, two by blood, one by adoption. He had one adopted older brother–a squib–who was going to university to study law, and one older sister by adoption who was going to school with him. His mother had raised him with the orphans she had fostered during the blood wars. She was a family name as someone who took care of those who had lost everyone.

She had never been friends with Severus Snape. She didn't even have a sister named Petunia. It was too much.

Lily was hugging him and saying it was okay, that she would see him at Christmas, or maybe even sooner. She was a healer who sometimes helped with the hospital wing. She could visit the castle if she didn't have to take care of Heather, Jasmine, and Astoria. He would have Daphne with him, the stoic and calm girl who was only months older than him. Who still remembered her birth parents.

It hit him like a brick–the war hadn't ended when She had defeated You–Know–Who, it had lasted another four years. It took that long for the Death Eater attacks to peter off and stop, someone else stepping up to continue the dark lord's cause. His sisters had been two of the victims of that, rescued at the last minute and taken in by the Order.

She was still getting closer. He rallied his breathing, pulling everything he knew about Occlumency and controlling emotions to the forefront of his mind and _willing_ himself to stop crying. It worked. He wiped his eyes and looked his Mum in the eye properly for the first time. He had never seen her in the flesh before, save every day since he could remember anything. The contrast was strange; he had a mother where he had never had one before. He had no mother where he had always had one before. He knew which one was real _now,_ but he had lived so much longer without than with that it was startling to look at her.

"Sorry Mum, I just… I thought about leaving you, Feather, 'Tori, and Jas behind and I… I got emotional. I'm okay." He smiled up at her, drawing on positive memories to make the smile more believable. More real.

She smiled back. "Ah, sweetie, it's a big thing going away from home. I was excited and eager, but I cried too. You have Daphne with you, and Heather will join you both next year." She planted a light kiss on Harry's forehead. "Make friends, do your best, and don't be afraid to tell me anything, okay? I'm just a letter away, I can convince Professor McGonagall to let me in if you need me." She glanced at Daphne. "If _either_ of you need me."

"I understand, Mother." Daphne said calmly. "I'll write once a week and see Harry does too." She grinned briefly at him; she was always formal, replicating what she remembered of her birth mother, but she was still his sister and loved to tease him. The realisation and emotions behind having a sister made him regret that long past declaration that he only loved Her like a sister. It was just… inadequate.

He had another chance. He wouldn't die for her. No, never; he couldn't condemn her to that living hell he had suffered through. She was the girl-who-lived. She was walking past him towards the train, nervous glances directed at all around her. He would be her friend, understand and commiserate every trial and tribulation. He wouldn't let her stand alone. They would find a better way.

He owed the… **Entity** Eight pieces of Tom Riddle's soul. He had one with him. It was almost familiar but wasn't quite the same as his scar had always felt.

He knew, somehow, that he needed to touch Hermione. To shake her hand. She would take it from him, and he would take hers unto himself. It would work and slowly she would learn all his Hermione had known. A spark turned to a blaze when presented with sufficient tinder upon which to grow.

He shook his head; his ruminations had him drifting away again. He pouted at Daphne as he so often did and then turned back to his Mum. "I'd best be going if I'm going to find a compartment. Bye, Mum." He kissed her cheek and rushed off, pushing his trunk on his trolley towards the door Hermione had just used to enter the train.

"Hey! We're supposed to sit together!" Daphne called after Harry as she moved to keep up.

"You wanted to sit with Tracey and Hannah! I don't!" Harry shouted over his shoulder.

"Take care Harry, Daphne!" Lily called from behind them, a bright smile on her face. Her previous worry had either been banished or put aside so she could wave them away without making them worry.

Either way, as soon as he was aboard the express Harry waved and grinned back, before starting down the corridor after Hermione. He would have to explain everything, and maybe she wouldn't believe him, but it didn't matter. What mattered was she knew he was there for her and that he made that promise from the very start.

Hermione had moved all the way to the back of the train and taken the final, empty, compartment. When Harry caught up he knocked on the door and opened it as casually as he could.

"Do you mind if I join you? I saw you looked lonely and all…" He trailed off at the look of apprehension on her face.

"… Okay, you can sit."

"Thanks! My name's Harry, what's yours?" Harry glanced at her forehead, but there was no scar there. If she had one–and a strong instinct in his mind said she _did_ and it was identical to his old one in every way except location. While waiting for her to respond her levitated his trunk up into the rack and sat opposite her; he tried not to stare too much but couldn't tell if he was managing it or not.

"Hermione." She spoke curtly and was holding her book tight enough her knuckles were going white. She glanced at him a few times. Harry didn't try to fake a smile, and let his own worry show on his face. Somehow, it made her relax slightly. She sighed quietly and turned her page, prefer to read rather than talk to him.

"I'm sorry. Would you like me to go?" He didn't sound defeated. _He didn't._ He would just give her space, hide her compartment so she wouldn't be disturbed, maybe come back later to see if she wanted to talk. He just didn't want to upset her and ruin their first meeting.

She looked up in surprise and opened her mouth but closed it again. She blinked and shook her head. "No, no. You can stay… I just–the first time I entered the wizarding world…"

"You were mobbed by well-wishers, handshakes, and people who wanted to thank you for something you don't remember doing?"

"… I do remember it. A bit. But yes."

"I–I have a story to tell, but it's going to be hard to believe. Maybe impossible." Harry shook his head, knowing he wasn't doing this right. He had to try, and he couldn't lie to her, not to any version of her. Not after he failed her. "I'd like to tell you, but if you aren't interested I won't. What's… what matters is that I want to be your friend."

Hermione frowned. "Lots of people want to be my friend. I'll… I'll listen, for a bit. If you–if you try _anything,_ I want you to go." She quivered slightly, but her eyes held him firmly. Harry knew that look, it was the glare of determination she had pinned him with a thousand times before. Every time she had made up her mind and could not be dissuaded.

He smiled, drew his wand carefully, never letting it even come close to looking at her. With a few swishes, flicks, and jabs he had cast a dozen secrecy, hiding, and locking charms over the door. Hermione had looked on in surprise after so many different bursts of light had left his wand–all without a single word being uttered.

"How–"

"It's part of the story. You can interrupt whenever you want and ask questions–you wouldn't be Hermione if you didn't– but… I won't skip ahead." Harry took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, matching his green eyes to her brown. "It begins with a boy in the cupboard under the stairs…"

He carefully never mentions his name, only the names of his relatives. She listens raptly as he talks, clearly curious about his story. Harry can see a sense of kinship in her gaze, the wisp of a smile someone who could relate to the events would wear. It nearly had him stop, jump across the compartment, and hug her. She had clearly had her own Dursleys growing up, in whatever shape or form they took. Judging by how uncomfortable she had looked in her dress and with her styled hair, it was likely they were far more obsessed with her physical appearance than the Dursleys ever had been with him.

"… And that was when the giant broke into the hut on the rock and said the boy's name. He called him a wizard and–"

"This story is strangely familiar." She narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head slightly. "What was the giant's name?"

"… Hagrid. Gamekeeper of Hogwarts and Keeper of the Keys."

"He came for me. My… my Cousin drove us all the way out into the Welsh mountains and he burst into the cottage during a storm. He had an owl–" She stopped, realising she was giving away details of her own story too readily, and bit her lip.

"He had an owl in his pocket, and a cake that he said he might have sat on?"

"… Yes. Exactly. It was an acceptance cake, but he said he would have one for me on my birthday as well…"

"Did he give someone a pig tail?"

"No, but he did give my cousin's girlfriend a shrew's nose." Hermione giggled, but quickly turned serious. "Why is your story so similar? _How_ is it so similar?"

"Can we shake hands? You–you might understand if we do."

Hermione chews on her lip and clutched her book tightly to her chest for more than a minute before slowly nodding. She reached out and Harry did so as well. As soon as their hands touched Harry's forehead exploded with pain, more than he had felt from his scar save for the time Voldemort had tried to possess him. As he marshalled himself and pushed the pain aside, he saw Hermione thrashing and clutching at her left breast, just above her heart.

"No, no. I'm sorry, I didn't know it would hurt–"

"You! You git!" She managed to gasp out. "HOW COULD THIS HELP ME UNDERSTAND?!"

Harry shook weakly and drew one hand up to his fringe to push it aside to reveal the lightning bolt scar.

He couldn't meet her gaze knowing what he had made her feel, but he still saw it drawn towards his scar–the brand new, bright red, open and raw scar of a Horcrux.

"You–what–how." She said weakly. She slumped backward into the bench, and they heard the whistle sound for the departure of the train. Neither of them paid any heed to the window as they began to move. "The boy–he… he lived, didn't he. That's what you're saying."

"The same scar. Me, but… not here. Elsewhere. Things were different–I was the boy-who-lived–" Harry spat the hyphenated title like a curse. "–and you were my best friend. My closest friend." He tilted his head down to the floor. "The only one who ever stood by me through everything."

"But that's not me."

"I know. I–that's my role now. I understand what you've… you had your own Dursleys. Your own _relatives_. Different from mine, but still…" He smiled up at her.

Hermione stared at him briefly and burst out laughing. She continued laughing for a while and would have fallen over if he hadn't surged forward to catch her. Harry tried to pay no mind to the impromptu hug, but the fact he was holding Hermione, that she was alive, was so important it hurt to even think of the time she wasn't there.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled up at him. She reached around and wrapped her arms around him. "Friends… I–I don't know why, but I believe you." She squeezed tightly, pushing the air out of Harry's lungs. "But if you think you are getting away without explaining why that handshake hurt so much…"

"I will!" He gasped out. She didn't ease up squeezing him in the slightest. If anything, she hugged him harder.

"Good."

"_Air_." He pushed out with what he had left in his lungs. Suddenly, gloriously, the pressure eased, and he could breathe again. "Hermione–" he gasped, "–you never change. Please."

"Do you mean I'm the same as… your Hermione, or you don't want me to change?" She grinned at him, clearly amused.

"Both? She was like that too–and I don't want you to change. Not more than you would anyway. Everyone grows up, and… oh Merlin, I have to go through puberty _again._" He moaned and dropped his head on her shoulder.

"Harry!" She cried, laughing softly. As she swatted his arm she paused and drew back, removing the support on which his head had rested. "What–what was that?"

"… I brought her soul with me, but it was… it was cursed. Like your scar–like _my_ scar. She… she saved my life. She took the darkness from my scar into herself, saving me at the cost of herself–not her life, her soul." He swallowed deeply, growing nervous as he felt Hermione pull away from him. "We, both of us, are protected. My Mum died, sacrificing herself, to save me. It meant the dark… thing in my scar couldn't influence me. The same for you. She… she didn't have that. It…" He sobbed, tears flowing down his cheeks as he remembered once again the promise, she had begged it from him, and he had never intended to keep it. It was one of the few times he had really lied to her. The one he should have kept no matter what. "Corrupted her. She became the darkness, and not herself. I–I had to put her down. And her soul, it never moved on."

"Like a ghost."

"No, it wasn't–she wasn't _her_. She was it–the dark–the scar–it's a piece of Voldemort's soul." He hadn't meant to tell her about Horcruxes yet. To ease her into it more slowly. Not lie, never lie, but be slower about what he said. It didn't matter, he had said it now. "It took her over. It was keeping him alive. I had–she begged–she made me _promise_ to kill her before anything happened to her. I wanted to save her–I was stupid–I didn't–I–" Any attempt Harry made to speak was blocked by his swollen throat. He couldn't see through his blurry eyes that were filled with tears. His breathing was ragged and broken.

"_You put that in me._"

Rather than forcing the word out of his throat, Harry just nodded.

"It made think like her."

Not really understanding, Harry didn't respond at all.

"I felt–I felt like I was close to you. That I was able to just do anything and you wouldn't mind. I _hit you_ and you didn't care. I knew you wouldn't care." Harry heard the sound of grinding teeth, and then hands slapping against cheeks. "_You tried to turn me into her._"

"No!" He croaked. "You. Are. Yourself. Always." It didn't come out evenly, but he managed to say it.

She stood up and sat back on the bench. "I'm going to read. Try and think up _something_ to justify what you've done while your throat clears up."

She sounded angry, but not furious. Hermione could get angry about a lot of things, but unless she was truly furious it would only be a matter of time before she forgave him. He hoped this Hermione was the same. She seemed the same.

By the time he his throat felt good enough to speak she was thoroughly engaged in her book, _Hogwarts: A History_ of course, and didn't want to be disturbed. Harry pulled out one of his own books. He knew everything he needed to know, but he didn't know what a first year needed to know. It was yet another awkward distinction that made little sense in words but was completely true.

Eventually Hermione closed her book and cleared her throat, causing Harry to snap his book shut and quickly turn his attention to her. "Do you have an explanation?"

"I… The Hermione I know, I knew, would never refuse this. She would want–jump at–the opportunity to receive seven years of learning in advance." Harry watched Hermione's reaction carefully. She nodded lightly, which he took to mean that she had already had that thought and agreed with it. "She also… she had parents." He whispered the words, but the way Hermione's breath caught as he said it meant she understood perfectly.

"She loved them, they loved her, and she grew up in a house that was happy. Maybe they're Muggles, and not exactly like your Mum and Dad here–my Dad's a Muggle, where he was a pureblood before, but I _know_ him. He's my Dad. He's not any less real–my sisters aren't any less real. How I feel for them isn't different–I'm talking a bit differently, I know more, I have things I need to do–but I would have had to do them anyway. To help you."

Harry met her gaze. "I'm not–now or then–someone who would let you get through this alone. It's going to be hard, it won't be the same, but I know what happened to me. We will have to find out how much of it happens to you. And no matter what you'll be better prepared than I ever was."

"Okay." She whispered. "Okay. I–I forgive you. It was wrong, you should have said, should have let me choose. But I would have chosen this. I knew the moment Hagrid explained it too me that it wasn't over, that something was wrong. If I was raised in the muggle world to be kept safe that meant the Wizarding one wasn't. I'm going to _need_ this, won't I?"

She looked him in the eye, a hint of worry and fear telling him all he needed to know. She was scared. She had done the reading he never had; she knew how bad it had been and how bad it could get again.

"Yeah. It all started up again."

"When?"

"After my fifth year, for real. But it was building before that. Each year was one where I nearly lost my life."

She shook herself and stood up. Marching over to him she sat down next to him and grabbed an arm. "I'm not happy with you. You can't go making decisions like that on your own." His protested was stalled by her glaring at him with pursed lips. "Now, tell me the rest of the story."

He told her all about his first year, with a few interjections–such as shock over the troll, and disbelief over how Ron had treated her. She pointed out how much Ron seemed to want to befriend Harry's fame rather than his friendship at first, and he was forced to agree. Ron had demonstrated more of a care for how it looked for him than any real respect for their friendship on several occasions.

By the end of it, she had asked so many extra questions his head was swimming. He couldn't remember everything, Occlumency or no–and he resolved to teach her that as soon as possible. If Snape looked into her mind it would be a disaster.

They would be ready. He would take on the world with her, and he wouldn't fail this time. Any plans he had made to abandon those he was close to in order to keep them safe had faded with the amount he loved his family, and how much he knew his family loved him. Daphne was going to be mad enough he'd holed up in a compartment away from her for the entire train ride.

As they started pulling into Hogsmeade Station Hermione reminded him that they needed to be in uniform and sent him outside. As soon as they had swapped and he had changed, she sidled up next to him and grabbed his hand. "Harry, you're my first friend. I'm… I won't be okay telling you about me, not…"

"It's okay, I understand."

She nodded and smiled at him. "Yeah, you're my first friend, and my best friend." She squeezed his hand. "I never thought anyone would be able to understand, but I'm glad to be wrong."

"It's always a miracle when Hermione Granger is wrong." He grinned at her and she swatted his arm in return. Their resultant laughter drew the attention of many around them; whispers about the girl-who-lived and her finally re-appearing surrounded them, but they didn't deter Hermione. Harry walked at her side as she strode off the train with her head held high; a few times he saw her waver and he squeezed her hand reassuringly. Whatever came, he would be with her.


End file.
